sythyry: (Default)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

Right here! You can buy a print copy of Sythyry’s Journal (that’s the first Sythyry series) — a quite substantial 600+-page book, edited by Vicki Borah Bloom, with nifty cover art by Tod Wills.

sythyry: (Default)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

Right here! You can buy a print copy of Sythyry’s Journal (that’s the first Sythyry series) — a quite substantial 600+-page book, edited by Vicki Borah Bloom, with nifty cover art by Tod Wills.

sythyry: (Default)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

World Tree now has a TV Tropes entry!

sythyry: (Default)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

World Tree now has a TV Tropes entry!

sythyry: (Default)

I should write down some of the meal, because it really was exceptional
and unusual, and I won’t be having many of the more interesting dishes any
time soon. (Unless I go back to Gutrumy House, which I might.)

I don’t much feel like it, because, of course, of the doom.

Naturally there was doom at the poison mushroom restaurant.

Naturally it had nothing to do with the poison. That part of the meal
worked just fine. The most trouble we had was with the big green glowing
mushrooms, with an utterly exquisite flavor and an utterly non-exquisite
amount of itchy poison. Since it was large, several of us made the mistake of
cutting it up and eating it in several mouthfuls, and itching furiously for
the last half of the course.

Also I don’t really remember very much about the third course. I was distracted.

The Third Course

It was all quite innocent really.

Kantele:“The work on the skyboat has been a bit slow.
Perhaps that’s just because Sythyry has been working exceedingly fast and
you’re not ready for it”

Bwipin:“Well, yes, we are a blasted bit disorganized here and
there about the guilds, aren’t we? We’re still trying to sort out the
finances, wouldn’t you know. Are we counting your ship repairs as ‘road
maintenance’ or ‘building that new sewer everyone agrees we need’? Not
that that’s your problem though.”

Kantele:“But at least that fine gentleman Thenel has paid us two
investigative visits and been attending to preliminary matters.”

Bwipin:“Well, yes, though I must admit that’s rather on his own
initiative, since the lozens that will pay him for it are still earmarked
for expanding some pond or other … I suppose he’s already gotten paid
and well-paid for his efforts though.”

There was a rather awkward moment, as most of us interpreted Bwipin’s
statement to mean “I, Bwipin, know all about Sythyry’s little adventure
with Thenel, and consider the lizard’s sexual favors to be payment enough for
Thenel’s survey.”
But Bwipin had made a few references to our
deviances before, and always with considerable smirking and sly words. This
time his manner was just his usual conversational manner, without any special
emphasis or winking.

Phaniet:“What do you mean?”

Bwipin:“Well, not him, quite. But Rehit got that quite
wonderful magic sword already.”

Me: [Thinking: "oh, dearie."] “Why is Rehit’s sword a direct
payment to Thenel?”

Bwipin:“Oh, Rehit is Thenel’s fiancé. Has been for
years, actually; they’re taking their time getting married. Still, all in
the family. They both think you’re quite a fine gentleman and wizard,
even if you are a bit questionable in some aspects.”

Me:“Oh, I see.”

Bwipin peered at me a bit worriedly. Cani can’t read minds, but they can read
bodies; I’m sure I came off as thunderstruck. Fortunately there’s a Cani on
my side, too. (A real one. All of us looked like Cani, but without the
training of growing up Cani, we don’t get the body-reading tricks.)

Phaniet: “I’m not entirely sure that last healing spell had a
full effect, Sythyry.”

Me:“Nor am I. Excuse me a moment … and, where’s the privy?”

Phaniet:“Over there … Actually, I’ll come with you, if I
may.”

Privately…

When we were behind the ornate tapestry screen, and hopefully out of sight, I
abducted Phaniet into a private corner of space and time, and exploded for a
while. Along the lines of:

Me:“How could he possibly not mention having a
fiancé?”

Phaniet:“You didn’t actually talk with him all that much, from
what you’ve told me.”

Me: fume whinge complain

Phaniet:“And he seemed pretty shy about personal matters. Which
isn’t an excuse, just an explanation.”

Me: mope grackle whine

And, for variety,

Me:“So, is he cisaffectionate or transaffectionate?”

Phaniet:“I don’t know. Bwipin did say they’d been engaged
for a long time. Perhaps there’s something defective about the
relationship: and perhaps it’s that Thenel is traff?”

And even:

Me:“So what am I? The home-breaker?”

Phaniet:“You’re the lizard with the serious crush, is what you
are. I have never seen you like this.”

Which is true. I haven’t felt quite like this for over a century, before I
met Mynthë and didn’t date (or get disappointed) quite so much.

And of course:

Me:“What should I do?”

Phaniet:“Calm down, go pee, wash your face, let me brush your fur
smooth, and go back and enjoy the rest of dinner.”

Me:“No! I mean, what should I do?”

Phaniet:“Either break up with Thenel, or have a long and detailed
talk with him and hear his side of the story. He is obviously a very
private person; there’s surely more going on than you know yet.”

Me:“Oh. So I don’t need to break up with him because he’s a
sneaky cheater and really cisaffectionate?”

Phaniet:“If, after you investigate, you discover that
he is a sneaky chater and really cisaffectionate, I would advise
you to break up with him unless he’s a really good lover. Even
then, you’d probably be better off with Inconnu, from a moral point of
view.”

Me:“Oh. OK.”

Phaniet:“In the mean time, can you get collected enough to not be
too awful at Bwipin?”

Me:“I don’t care about Bwipin. He’s not even your real
friend. He’s your clan-assigned friend, and he’s more loyal to Eigrach
than he ever will be to you.”

Phaniet:“Of course. He’s my real friend too, but just of a lesser
degree. Obviously I don’t trust him in all respects. But he’s fairly
good company … you were having a good time chatting with him until two
minutes ago in the real world. You just have to know what his loyalties
are and what they require of him. Right now, they seem to require having
an extremely delicious if poisonous dinner with us. When you’re ready,
shall we go back and enjoy it?”

I wasn’t ready for another hour and two-thirds or some such. Fortunately it
was only a few minutes by everyone else’s time.

I was pretty quiet for the rest of the meal.

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

sythyry: (Default)

I should write down some of the meal, because it really was exceptional
and unusual, and I won’t be having many of the more interesting dishes any
time soon. (Unless I go back to Gutrumy House, which I might.)

I don’t much feel like it, because, of course, of the doom.

Naturally there was doom at the poison mushroom restaurant.

Naturally it had nothing to do with the poison. That part of the meal
worked just fine. The most trouble we had was with the big green glowing
mushrooms, with an utterly exquisite flavor and an utterly non-exquisite
amount of itchy poison. Since it was large, several of us made the mistake of
cutting it up and eating it in several mouthfuls, and itching furiously for
the last half of the course.

Also I don’t really remember very much about the third course. I was distracted.

The Third Course

It was all quite innocent really.

Kantele:“The work on the skyboat has been a bit slow.
Perhaps that’s just because Sythyry has been working exceedingly fast and
you’re not ready for it”

Bwipin:“Well, yes, we are a blasted bit disorganized here and
there about the guilds, aren’t we? We’re still trying to sort out the
finances, wouldn’t you know. Are we counting your ship repairs as ‘road
maintenance’ or ‘building that new sewer everyone agrees we need’? Not
that that’s your problem though.”

Kantele:“But at least that fine gentleman Thenel has paid us two
investigative visits and been attending to preliminary matters.”

Bwipin:“Well, yes, though I must admit that’s rather on his own
initiative, since the lozens that will pay him for it are still earmarked
for expanding some pond or other … I suppose he’s already gotten paid
and well-paid for his efforts though.”

There was a rather awkward moment, as most of us interpreted Bwipin’s
statement to mean “I, Bwipin, know all about Sythyry’s little adventure
with Thenel, and consider the lizard’s sexual favors to be payment enough for
Thenel’s survey.”
But Bwipin had made a few references to our
deviances before, and always with considerable smirking and sly words. This
time his manner was just his usual conversational manner, without any special
emphasis or winking.

Phaniet:“What do you mean?”

Bwipin:“Well, not him, quite. But Rehit got that quite
wonderful magic sword already.”

Me: [Thinking: "oh, dearie."] “Why is Rehit’s sword a direct
payment to Thenel?”

Bwipin:“Oh, Rehit is Thenel’s fiancé. Has been for
years, actually; they’re taking their time getting married. Still, all in
the family. They both think you’re quite a fine gentleman and wizard,
even if you are a bit questionable in some aspects.”

Me:“Oh, I see.”

Bwipin peered at me a bit worriedly. Cani can’t read minds, but they can read
bodies; I’m sure I came off as thunderstruck. Fortunately there’s a Cani on
my side, too. (A real one. All of us looked like Cani, but without the
training of growing up Cani, we don’t get the body-reading tricks.)

Phaniet: “I’m not entirely sure that last healing spell had a
full effect, Sythyry.”

Me:“Nor am I. Excuse me a moment … and, where’s the privy?”

Phaniet:“Over there … Actually, I’ll come with you, if I
may.”

Privately…

When we were behind the ornate tapestry screen, and hopefully out of sight, I
abducted Phaniet into a private corner of space and time, and exploded for a
while. Along the lines of:

Me:“How could he possibly not mention having a
fiancé?”

Phaniet:“You didn’t actually talk with him all that much, from
what you’ve told me.”

Me: fume whinge complain

Phaniet:“And he seemed pretty shy about personal matters. Which
isn’t an excuse, just an explanation.”

Me: mope grackle whine

And, for variety,

Me:“So, is he cisaffectionate or transaffectionate?”

Phaniet:“I don’t know. Bwipin did say they’d been engaged
for a long time. Perhaps there’s something defective about the
relationship: and perhaps it’s that Thenel is traff?”

And even:

Me:“So what am I? The home-breaker?”

Phaniet:“You’re the lizard with the serious crush, is what you
are. I have never seen you like this.”

Which is true. I haven’t felt quite like this for over a century, before I
met Mynthë and didn’t date (or get disappointed) quite so much.

And of course:

Me:“What should I do?”

Phaniet:“Calm down, go pee, wash your face, let me brush your fur
smooth, and go back and enjoy the rest of dinner.”

Me:“No! I mean, what should I do?”

Phaniet:“Either break up with Thenel, or have a long and detailed
talk with him and hear his side of the story. He is obviously a very
private person; there’s surely more going on than you know yet.”

Me:“Oh. So I don’t need to break up with him because he’s a
sneaky cheater and really cisaffectionate?”

Phaniet:“If, after you investigate, you discover that
he is a sneaky chater and really cisaffectionate, I would advise
you to break up with him unless he’s a really good lover. Even
then, you’d probably be better off with Inconnu, from a moral point of
view.”

Me:“Oh. OK.”

Phaniet:“In the mean time, can you get collected enough to not be
too awful at Bwipin?”

Me:“I don’t care about Bwipin. He’s not even your real
friend. He’s your clan-assigned friend, and he’s more loyal to Eigrach
than he ever will be to you.”

Phaniet:“Of course. He’s my real friend too, but just of a lesser
degree. Obviously I don’t trust him in all respects. But he’s fairly
good company … you were having a good time chatting with him until two
minutes ago in the real world. You just have to know what his loyalties
are and what they require of him. Right now, they seem to require having
an extremely delicious if poisonous dinner with us. When you’re ready,
shall we go back and enjoy it?”

I wasn’t ready for another hour and two-thirds or some such. Fortunately it
was only a few minutes by everyone else’s time.

I was pretty quiet for the rest of the meal.

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

sythyry: (Default)

Mushrooms [11 Thory 4385; Eigrach, Srineia]

We — Phaniet, Este, Windigar, Kantele, and me — passed through the lumpy streets of Eigrach to the sweet terraces of Via Tydirdi, where the garden of fragrant lillies was a bit past its prime, but the poisonous but lovely hazillit trees were in bloom all about the white-and-rainbow meringue that was Bwipin’s longhouse. “Symbolic,” said Kantele, who does not trust anyone in Eigrach.

The Khtsoyis guards in their busby hats greeted us at the door. “G’day to you-dono, visitors. You’d be the snushmangers from Ketheria, wouldn’t you?”

“We are the nobles, scholars, and guildsmen of Ketheria whom Bwipin has invited to this place,” said Phaniet. “Our personal habits are far too refined and sophisticated for discussion with such as you.”

“Haw! Told you they was the snushmangers comin’ up the walk,” said the one on the left, and turned a dismal sick green color. Both Khtsoyis giggled. “Hey, c’mon in, sit in the parlor. Bwipin’s still tryin’ t’cram his fat belly into a waistcoat ‘n tights.”

We sat in the parlor briefly, and grumbled about being insulted by Khtsoyis. “Snushmanger, are we?” But what do you expect, from Khtsoyis?

In due course, Bwipin showed up in the parlor, dressed in a loose caftan and a topologically troublesome hat. “Oh, cursed sorry to be so slow, lordies, but I’m not as nimble as I was a hundred pounds ago. Shall we proceed on our little snushquest?”

We blinked at each other. “Snushquest?”

“Our expedition to find and devour the most expensive mushrooms in Eigrach!” boomed Bwipin.

“Someone called us ’snushmangers’,” I explained. “We took it for some sort of insulting term for our choice in lovers.”

“Not all of our choice!” noted Windigar.

Bwipin sputtered, “Good heavens, man, someone accused you of being mushroom-eaters! Did they know you were going to Gutrumy House?”

“Well, actually, they did,” I had to admit.

“Well, if ’snushmanger’ is an insult nowadays, it is an insult I shall wear proudly, blast it! I don’t get to Gutrumy House nearly often enough. Too expensive, says the wife and spouses!”

“How much should we expect it to be?” asked the practical Kantele, who, along with Zascalle, is quite worried about our finances.

“Ah, think nothing of it. On the city, ma’am! On the city!” proclaimed Bwipin. “By way of a bit of extra apology for the troubles in this and that, and the shipwrights being so slow and all. We’re blasted sorry for all that. And I don’t mind being your native host there myself!”

“Oh!” said Este. “Shall we change here, or at the restaurant?”

“Change?” asked Bwipin. “You have brought a bit of a suitcase with you, haven’t you?”

“With your permission, should you choose to provide it, we were going to all turn into Cani, so as to best appreciate the subtleties of the poisonous mushrooms,” Kantele said.

“That’s a blasted good idea! Here, I’ll grant you temporary auxiliary membership in Coryn!” said Bwipin. We fiddled with magical talismans and Cani garments. Bwipin fiddled with paper and clan tokens. And sniffed. “Phaniet, should I leave Este out of it? You forgot that Strayway had only strong rosemary soap, and went and used lavender!”

“Oh, no,” said Phaniet, tail between her legs. With my new Cani nose, I could tell she smelled faintly of male Rassimel. Bwipin, of course, could tell more.

“Ahh, don’t fret about that. A distinguished foreigner such as yourself isn’t expected to behave like an Eigrachter. Besides, he’s a Cani now, isn’t he? Though he doesn’t blasted smell like it on you!”, boomed Bwipin. “Let’s go!”

Gutrumy House

Briefly: as fancy a restaurant as I’ve ever been in, and that means, quite fancy indeed.

The decor: spiderwebs. Not cobwebs, mind you. The restaurant was bright with sunlight through wicker, and not a single speck of dust sullied the white wythes. But the decor was spiderwebs, artificial spiderwebs made of silk threads, sparkling with powdered glass, spread across floors and ceilings and tables. You could regard them as very sparse and spirally doilies, if you like.

Out of deference to Grinwipey, or my own life, I paid close attention to the restaurant’s protections. They looked quite good. Area-effect Heal Poison devices, usable thrice daily for itchy and fever poison (which are annoying if not cured), twelve times daily for harm and howly (which can kill you if not cured).

Plus the waiters — all Rassimel for better healing power — clearly knew their magic. Kantele ordered the grilled ciovulse mushroom appetizer; she was the first one to be served. It was beautiful: a spray of tiny pink and purple mushrooms, sprinkled with a few drops of fish sauce and brandy, and grilled over a fire of cedar and onionseed. We passed it around and everyone sniffed at it, and then Kantele popped it into her mouth. “Delicious!” she said, and swallowed, and enjoyed the flavor for a whole ten seconds. Then she looked a bit worried, and gritted her teeth.

Then the waiter stepped behind her and cast Heal Howly Poison. A respectable-strength cast for a non-Guild healer.

Kantele relaxed. “Great staring gods, that’s an odd sensation. I needed to scream, over nothing in particular.”

I wagged my peculiarly fluffy tail. “Howly poison does that. You scream so loud that you crack your ribs, or you do when it starts to hurt. I’ve been poisoned that way a few times, and not with a helpful waiter to heal me afterwards.”

The waiter smiled. “We strive to please. Who is comfortable enough to have the next appetizer?”

“How much cley do you have left?” asked Este, rather rudely.

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

sythyry: (Default)

Mushrooms [11 Thory 4385; Eigrach, Srineia]

We — Phaniet, Este, Windigar, Kantele, and me — passed through the lumpy streets of Eigrach to the sweet terraces of Via Tydirdi, where the garden of fragrant lillies was a bit past its prime, but the poisonous but lovely hazillit trees were in bloom all about the white-and-rainbow meringue that was Bwipin’s longhouse. “Symbolic,” said Kantele, who does not trust anyone in Eigrach.

The Khtsoyis guards in their busby hats greeted us at the door. “G’day to you-dono, visitors. You’d be the snushmangers from Ketheria, wouldn’t you?”

“We are the nobles, scholars, and guildsmen of Ketheria whom Bwipin has invited to this place,” said Phaniet. “Our personal habits are far too refined and sophisticated for discussion with such as you.”

“Haw! Told you they was the snushmangers comin’ up the walk,” said the one on the left, and turned a dismal sick green color. Both Khtsoyis giggled. “Hey, c’mon in, sit in the parlor. Bwipin’s still tryin’ t’cram his fat belly into a waistcoat ‘n tights.”

We sat in the parlor briefly, and grumbled about being insulted by Khtsoyis. “Snushmanger, are we?” But what do you expect, from Khtsoyis?

In due course, Bwipin showed up in the parlor, dressed in a loose caftan and a topologically troublesome hat. “Oh, cursed sorry to be so slow, lordies, but I’m not as nimble as I was a hundred pounds ago. Shall we proceed on our little snushquest?”

We blinked at each other. “Snushquest?”

“Our expedition to find and devour the most expensive mushrooms in Eigrach!” boomed Bwipin.

“Someone called us ’snushmangers’,” I explained. “We took it for some sort of insulting term for our choice in lovers.”

“Not all of our choice!” noted Windigar.

Bwipin sputtered, “Good heavens, man, someone accused you of being mushroom-eaters! Did they know you were going to Gutrumy House?”

“Well, actually, they did,” I had to admit.

“Well, if ’snushmanger’ is an insult nowadays, it is an insult I shall wear proudly, blast it! I don’t get to Gutrumy House nearly often enough. Too expensive, says the wife and spouses!”

“How much should we expect it to be?” asked the practical Kantele, who, along with Zascalle, is quite worried about our finances.

“Ah, think nothing of it. On the city, ma’am! On the city!” proclaimed Bwipin. “By way of a bit of extra apology for the troubles in this and that, and the shipwrights being so slow and all. We’re blasted sorry for all that. And I don’t mind being your native host there myself!”

“Oh!” said Este. “Shall we change here, or at the restaurant?”

“Change?” asked Bwipin. “You have brought a bit of a suitcase with you, haven’t you?”

“With your permission, should you choose to provide it, we were going to all turn into Cani, so as to best appreciate the subtleties of the poisonous mushrooms,” Kantele said.

“That’s a blasted good idea! Here, I’ll grant you temporary auxiliary membership in Coryn!” said Bwipin. We fiddled with magical talismans and Cani garments. Bwipin fiddled with paper and clan tokens. And sniffed. “Phaniet, should I leave Este out of it? You forgot that Strayway had only strong rosemary soap, and went and used lavender!”

“Oh, no,” said Phaniet, tail between her legs. With my new Cani nose, I could tell she smelled faintly of male Rassimel. Bwipin, of course, could tell more.

“Ahh, don’t fret about that. A distinguished foreigner such as yourself isn’t expected to behave like an Eigrachter. Besides, he’s a Cani now, isn’t he? Though he doesn’t blasted smell like it on you!”, boomed Bwipin. “Let’s go!”

Gutrumy House

Briefly: as fancy a restaurant as I’ve ever been in, and that means, quite fancy indeed.

The decor: spiderwebs. Not cobwebs, mind you. The restaurant was bright with sunlight through wicker, and not a single speck of dust sullied the white wythes. But the decor was spiderwebs, artificial spiderwebs made of silk threads, sparkling with powdered glass, spread across floors and ceilings and tables. You could regard them as very sparse and spirally doilies, if you like.

Out of deference to Grinwipey, or my own life, I paid close attention to the restaurant’s protections. They looked quite good. Area-effect Heal Poison devices, usable thrice daily for itchy and fever poison (which are annoying if not cured), twelve times daily for harm and howly (which can kill you if not cured).

Plus the waiters — all Rassimel for better healing power — clearly knew their magic. Kantele ordered the grilled ciovulse mushroom appetizer; she was the first one to be served. It was beautiful: a spray of tiny pink and purple mushrooms, sprinkled with a few drops of fish sauce and brandy, and grilled over a fire of cedar and onionseed. We passed it around and everyone sniffed at it, and then Kantele popped it into her mouth. “Delicious!” she said, and swallowed, and enjoyed the flavor for a whole ten seconds. Then she looked a bit worried, and gritted her teeth.

Then the waiter stepped behind her and cast Heal Howly Poison. A respectable-strength cast for a non-Guild healer.

Kantele relaxed. “Great staring gods, that’s an odd sensation. I needed to scream, over nothing in particular.”

I wagged my peculiarly fluffy tail. “Howly poison does that. You scream so loud that you crack your ribs, or you do when it starts to hurt. I’ve been poisoned that way a few times, and not with a helpful waiter to heal me afterwards.”

The waiter smiled. “We strive to please. Who is comfortable enough to have the next appetizer?”

“How much cley do you have left?” asked Este, rather rudely.

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

sythyry: (Default)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

The Daukhrame Diplomatic Corps [23 Chirreb 4261]

Two very serious-looking Cani were waiting for me in the
parlor when I got home: Jherrel and Crander, or something
like that. I can’t remember any of the rest of their
names. Anoof was waiting with them, his tail between his
legs.

They talked very quietly. They said they were Ilottat’s
friends, and as loyal to him as only Cani can be.
They made several points. Sharp pointy points. It hurt a lot.

  1. Daukhrame is the loyal ally and concedes affan in
    various matters to Vheshrame. This isn’t about the
    relationship between the two cities, not a bit.
    (Which is an exceedingly scary way to start a
    conversation. I recommend it if you are ever trying to
    terrify forigners. Not that they were trying to scare me particularly.)
  2. Still, Ilottat is, in some sense, a representative and to-be
    (or “hopefully to-be”) ambassador of Daukrhame. I am, in
    some sense, a representative and even an ambassador of the
    Duke of Vheshrame.
  3. And Ilottat and I are in a … physical … and emotional?
    (I nodded. I think it’s true.) relationship.
  4. Which may, understandably, make the lords of Daukrhame
    uncomfortable with their utter assurance in Ilottat’s
    … not his loyalty, which they are not questioning (and in
    any event there is no, absolutely no, conflict between
    Daukrhame and Vheshrame). But his singleness of purpose, his
    desire to promote the wishes and needs of Daukrhame (which in
    any case do not conflict with those of Vheshrame,
    but, perhaps, may be given an ever-so-slightly different
    emphasis).
  5. And, under the circumstances, Ilottat’s choice of perversion
    (Yes, they quite directly said that particular word, to
    me, about my love and about me, without twitching an
    ear)
    could be interpreted to indicate that he may, in
    the future, be swayed by other Zi Ri — and,
    potentially, other Zi Ri who are not in the service of
    Daukrhame’s good ally and elder brother Vheshrame.
  6. Which is to say, if Ilottat continues being so obviously a
    transaffectionate Zi Ri fancier, his career as a diplomat
    and spy will be over before it is properly started.
  7. So if I actually love him, I will do best by him to
    break up with him in so painful a way that he will never
    want to see a Zi Ri ever again.

And then they left. Anoof stayed, and held me while I
writhed around as if my spine had been severed just below
the neck.

(And he told me various other things, of course. Ilottat has
been warned, several times, by various diplomatic folks
including Jherrel and Crander. That is why he has
been so fussy about being seen with me in my real form, or
part of it … not that it helps, as any Cani in the
building can tell at a sniff what he and I have been
doing. Not that concerned senior Daukrhame diplomats
wouldn’t think to check about such matters, considering
Ilottat’s history.)

Anoof didn’t recommend any course of action to me. He was
pretty distraught himself … he blames himself for it. Not
that he expected me to be appointed ambassador to a nendrai
when he started being go-between.

I don’t have any good ideas of what to do either.

And it hurts that he was right about needing to hide,
too.

sythyry: (Default)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

The Daukhrame Diplomatic Corps [23 Chirreb 4261]

Two very serious-looking Cani were waiting for me in the
parlor when I got home: Jherrel and Crander, or something
like that. I can’t remember any of the rest of their
names. Anoof was waiting with them, his tail between his
legs.

They talked very quietly. They said they were Ilottat’s
friends, and as loyal to him as only Cani can be.
They made several points. Sharp pointy points. It hurt a lot.

  1. Daukhrame is the loyal ally and concedes affan in
    various matters to Vheshrame. This isn’t about the
    relationship between the two cities, not a bit.
    (Which is an exceedingly scary way to start a
    conversation. I recommend it if you are ever trying to
    terrify forigners. Not that they were trying to scare me particularly.)
  2. Still, Ilottat is, in some sense, a representative and to-be
    (or “hopefully to-be”) ambassador of Daukrhame. I am, in
    some sense, a representative and even an ambassador of the
    Duke of Vheshrame.
  3. And Ilottat and I are in a … physical … and emotional?
    (I nodded. I think it’s true.) relationship.
  4. Which may, understandably, make the lords of Daukrhame
    uncomfortable with their utter assurance in Ilottat’s
    … not his loyalty, which they are not questioning (and in
    any event there is no, absolutely no, conflict between
    Daukrhame and Vheshrame). But his singleness of purpose, his
    desire to promote the wishes and needs of Daukrhame (which in
    any case do not conflict with those of Vheshrame,
    but, perhaps, may be given an ever-so-slightly different
    emphasis).
  5. And, under the circumstances, Ilottat’s choice of perversion
    (Yes, they quite directly said that particular word, to
    me, about my love and about me, without twitching an
    ear)
    could be interpreted to indicate that he may, in
    the future, be swayed by other Zi Ri — and,
    potentially, other Zi Ri who are not in the service of
    Daukrhame’s good ally and elder brother Vheshrame.
  6. Which is to say, if Ilottat continues being so obviously a
    transaffectionate Zi Ri fancier, his career as a diplomat
    and spy will be over before it is properly started.
  7. So if I actually love him, I will do best by him to
    break up with him in so painful a way that he will never
    want to see a Zi Ri ever again.

And then they left. Anoof stayed, and held me while I
writhed around as if my spine had been severed just below
the neck.

(And he told me various other things, of course. Ilottat has
been warned, several times, by various diplomatic folks
including Jherrel and Crander. That is why he has
been so fussy about being seen with me in my real form, or
part of it … not that it helps, as any Cani in the
building can tell at a sniff what he and I have been
doing. Not that concerned senior Daukrhame diplomats
wouldn’t think to check about such matters, considering
Ilottat’s history.)

Anoof didn’t recommend any course of action to me. He was
pretty distraught himself … he blames himself for it. Not
that he expected me to be appointed ambassador to a nendrai
when he started being go-between.

I don’t have any good ideas of what to do either.

And it hurts that he was right about needing to hide,
too.

sythyry: (Default)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

Orren Overload On the Side[22 Chirreb 4261]

Ilottat

Well, hardly an overload. Ilottat did deign to sit next to
me in Appreciation of Chairs, which is only polite
considering where my head was for a good two-thirds of an
hour last night. At his request, I might add. If he’s
going to ask for that too often, I shall have to
invest some of my ~mother~’s amber in some sort of endurance
spell.

I’m being quite fickle and Sleethy about this, aren’t I? If
he ignores me for a few days, I whine and hiss about how
he’s ignoring me. If he demands a great deal of my time and
attention for a few days, I whine and hiss about how he’s
asking too much of me. The poor … no, wealthy … swimmie
simply can’t win.

And he’s doing what I ask, too. He did sit
next to me in Chairs today, and he didn’t even pretend he
didn’t know who I was or anything.

What do I want? Sizzling sultry glances and quick flashes
of his personal region in the middle of class? A fierce
kiss as soon as we’re out the door? Sitting there with our
tails curled up together? Cisaffectionate couples don’t do
that — why should I think we ought to?

I’m pretty sure, if I must be honest, that he’s being
reasonable and I’m being horrid.

Zanniajaia

And Zanniajaia conveniently sat next to me
in Dissection of Spells, while Prof. Gostegg brought in
hard-boiled eggs created by (1) himself, the ordinary way,
(2) himself, feather-casting, (3) his wife, spontaneously
cast, (4) a grocer, spontaneously cast, and (5) a magic
item, all five at the same Power. He had us try to figure
out which was which. Five students, five eggs, was the
plan. I actually figured out two and two-halves of them.
I’ve been looking at spontaneous magic a lot lately, so I
figured out which two were (3) and (4), and I’ve seen a lot
of cleyless magic lately, so I got (2), and I had more or
less just come from Enchantment, and I got (5) as well.

(How? Well, (2) was sort of thin, rather like soup when
you’ve had an extra guest or two at the last minute. This
was pretty obvious. (3) and (4), the spontaneous ones, had
more asymmetrical magic about them. Nobody was too
impressed at this. (5) looked a bit stamped-out from one
side, like butter from a mold. This got appreciative nods,
since all five of us were puzzling over it for a third of an
hour.)

Zanniajaia figured out which was (3) and which was (4) –
(4) had a sort of shadow of divinity about it, rather the
way that putting a few drops of really good brandy in kathia
is a bit more supreme than putting a few drops of simply
adequate brandy in kathia. So (4) must have come from
someone a bit closer to one of the gods than (3), which she
guessed was a Herethroy. (And, O monsters, you must know
that Herethroy are closer to Virid, their creator goddess
and the goddess of creation, than anyone else.)

Zanniajaia:“And if he’d only said ‘lover’ we
wouldn’t know, but he said ‘wife’, and he can’t be married
to a Herethroy..”

Which sounds distinctly friendly to traffitude to me, or at
least aware of it. Is she…?

Gostegg:“I am most certainly not married to a
Herethroy. I have checked, in depth, and at length, and,
especially in my younger days, for an interval which would
astound anyone here.”

He is, I gather, (1) not notably traff himself; (2) not
notably friendly to traff; (3) able to stun five students
into embarrassed silence quite easily.

He said he’d tell us how he got all five at the same Power
sometime later. That is a mystery to me.

sythyry: (Default)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

Orren Overload On the Side[22 Chirreb 4261]

Ilottat

Well, hardly an overload. Ilottat did deign to sit next to
me in Appreciation of Chairs, which is only polite
considering where my head was for a good two-thirds of an
hour last night. At his request, I might add. If he’s
going to ask for that too often, I shall have to
invest some of my ~mother~’s amber in some sort of endurance
spell.

I’m being quite fickle and Sleethy about this, aren’t I? If
he ignores me for a few days, I whine and hiss about how
he’s ignoring me. If he demands a great deal of my time and
attention for a few days, I whine and hiss about how he’s
asking too much of me. The poor … no, wealthy … swimmie
simply can’t win.

And he’s doing what I ask, too. He did sit
next to me in Chairs today, and he didn’t even pretend he
didn’t know who I was or anything.

What do I want? Sizzling sultry glances and quick flashes
of his personal region in the middle of class? A fierce
kiss as soon as we’re out the door? Sitting there with our
tails curled up together? Cisaffectionate couples don’t do
that — why should I think we ought to?

I’m pretty sure, if I must be honest, that he’s being
reasonable and I’m being horrid.

Zanniajaia

And Zanniajaia conveniently sat next to me
in Dissection of Spells, while Prof. Gostegg brought in
hard-boiled eggs created by (1) himself, the ordinary way,
(2) himself, feather-casting, (3) his wife, spontaneously
cast, (4) a grocer, spontaneously cast, and (5) a magic
item, all five at the same Power. He had us try to figure
out which was which. Five students, five eggs, was the
plan. I actually figured out two and two-halves of them.
I’ve been looking at spontaneous magic a lot lately, so I
figured out which two were (3) and (4), and I’ve seen a lot
of cleyless magic lately, so I got (2), and I had more or
less just come from Enchantment, and I got (5) as well.

(How? Well, (2) was sort of thin, rather like soup when
you’ve had an extra guest or two at the last minute. This
was pretty obvious. (3) and (4), the spontaneous ones, had
more asymmetrical magic about them. Nobody was too
impressed at this. (5) looked a bit stamped-out from one
side, like butter from a mold. This got appreciative nods,
since all five of us were puzzling over it for a third of an
hour.)

Zanniajaia figured out which was (3) and which was (4) –
(4) had a sort of shadow of divinity about it, rather the
way that putting a few drops of really good brandy in kathia
is a bit more supreme than putting a few drops of simply
adequate brandy in kathia. So (4) must have come from
someone a bit closer to one of the gods than (3), which she
guessed was a Herethroy. (And, O monsters, you must know
that Herethroy are closer to Virid, their creator goddess
and the goddess of creation, than anyone else.)

Zanniajaia:“And if he’d only said ‘lover’ we
wouldn’t know, but he said ‘wife’, and he can’t be married
to a Herethroy..”

Which sounds distinctly friendly to traffitude to me, or at
least aware of it. Is she…?

Gostegg:“I am most certainly not married to a
Herethroy. I have checked, in depth, and at length, and,
especially in my younger days, for an interval which would
astound anyone here.”

He is, I gather, (1) not notably traff himself; (2) not
notably friendly to traff; (3) able to stun five students
into embarrassed silence quite easily.

He said he’d tell us how he got all five at the same Power
sometime later. That is a mystery to me.

sythyry: (Default)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

Assault on the Nendrai [21 Chirreb 4261]

A Sleeth, a Zi Ri, and a nendrai walk into a bar and …

No, it’s not the start of a a joke. There was a little
problem in Threeze — and by “little” I specifically mean
“little” — and Floosh and I had decided that Vae might as
well be the one to solve it. Kaim-Su insisted that
Seeks-No-Distant-Love come along, but she’s still moping, so
she required Rhedwy into coming with us instead. (I am
unclear on exactly how that works.)

But Floosh didn’t want Vae to go to Threeze. (For monsters
reading: Threeze isn’t a city, so it’s not doorwaying for
monsters to go there. But the residents don’t generally
encourage it.) So we had to meet Riverred at
St. Andawhale’s Tavern in St. Andawhale.

I have learned somewhat more how to appreciate Orren since I
saw her last. It doesn’t help. She’s still dented-in and
ugly. She still drips blood out of the corner of her left
eye. She’s still willful and determined. She put herself
in charge of the cooking project when Floosh isn’t around — not the cooking,
she can’t do that, but the administration. Someone has to
take her around to the farmers and such, ’cause she really
can’t travel on roads on her own. But the someone is Allu,
who was named Chompramirthian when I was there last, and
Allu wouldn’t be much help in the kitchen.

(That sounds bad, but it’s not. Allu is doesn’t like
cooking very much and isn’t very good at it, is all.)

In any case, there are Orren — even Orren whose hands have
been many places on my body — whom I do not find
appealing. This may surprise many people, but it is quite true.

We didn’t look nearly as alarming as we were. Vae looked
like an Orren girl, because she does that sometimes for her
own reasons and she does it reasonably well. I looked like
an Orren girl, because I do that sometimes for my own
reasons … well, my boyfriend’s own reasons … and I do
it reasonably well. Rhedwy looked like a Sleeth, so people
were a touch scared anyways, but not as much as they would
have been if they knew what Vae was.

Why We Had To Do This

The ovens in Threeze were too small for the amount of
cooking that Floooooosh was going to have her family and
assistants do there. For some reason, that tiny fishing
village isn’t really equipped to make luxury pastry
breakfast boxes for all of Oorah Thrassen … unaccountable,
really.

The first thought was to make some makeshift ovens, probably
by digging caves in a hillside and putting fires in them or
something. Floosh didn’t like that idea very much ’cause
the heat might come out uneven without lots of Ruloc
Pyrador, which is always messy.

Me:“But we have this really good Mutoc Locador
specialist on the project already. Vae could probably make
the ovens big enough to bake Oorah Thrassen, much less the
cakes for it.”

Flooosh:“I don’t particularly want Vae in
Threeze.”

So we had Riverred bring bits of the oven to Vae, so that
Vae could cast a slightly fancier spell on them from far
away. Locador is good for that, if it’s not going through
city walls or something. It wasn’t a hard thing to do, by
Vae’s standards. Someday, I imagine, I’ll be good enough to
cast that spell. Glikkonen might be able to spont it, for
all I know, and surely zie could weave it or cast it.

The Aftermath

And that was that, as far as the oven was concerned. We
spent more time getting there (two-thirds of an hour from my
door to the Halflight Gate to meet Vae, a ninth of an hour
arranging disguises, a ninth of an hour having The
Conversation (I lost count at 28, some time ago) in advance
so I wouldn’t have to do it while I was there, one tailtap
to take us to St. Andawhale) than we did fixing the oven (a
third of an hour to chat with Riverred, five tailtaps to
deal with the five ovens).

Of course, everyone in St. Andawhale noticed five huge
Locador spells being cast in quick succession in the room.
Everyone (who were a dozen or so elderly retired Rassimel
and Herethroy countryfolk) turned and stared at us.

Rhedwy peered back at the everyone with that hideous blank
Sleeth expression, and remarked in a loud voice, “This is
the good plan. I cannot eat the whole body of the whole
victim, even if I am very hungry. The remains can be
remained in a pocket universe, for nobody to find ever.”

People stopped looking at us, at least. Most of them left
the room over the next ninth of an hour.

Me:“We shall have to tip very well.”

Rhedwy:“Why? They leave of their own choice.
We do not threaten them!”

Vae:“What do you mean, Sythyry? ‘Tip’ means
’tilt’, more or less, doesn’t it?”
[In the original:
"'Tip' means 'scoop', more or less, doesn't it?" -bb]

Me:“‘Tip’ means ‘chflekcy’” Which it
does, not that I really like knowing it.

Vae:“Oh! Certainly!”

Riverred:“‘Checky’?”

Me:“She taught me another language, by brute
force.”
I had to explain the story.

Riverred looked suitably horrified, which I suppose is
good. She assaulted Vae, which I suppose is not so good.
Here is a schematic diagram of the assault:

Riverred’s Assault Vae’s Counter
How dare you? I didn’t know it was going to be a bad thing.
But … mind magic! There’s no other way to learn a language.
You could have just translated! I didn’t think of that.
You’re not very smart, are you? I don’t know … probably not.
You don’t know the first thing about living in decent society. Sythyry’s trying to teach me though … it’s not going
very well.
Primes are destined to control the whole Tree I can’t even control half my own mind.
You really shouldn’t be here. I probably shouldn’t be anywhere.

At which point I found it necessary to rescue the poor
nendrai. (No, I didn’t think I’d ever say that.) She looked
like she was about to start crying, and I didn’t want to pay
for a bloodied-up tablecloth (Riverred just drips on her
fur, and wipes her face every once in a while) or
drive off the remaining patrons.

Rhedwy, of course, was smirking. A lot.

sythyry: (Default)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

Assault on the Nendrai [21 Chirreb 4261]

A Sleeth, a Zi Ri, and a nendrai walk into a bar and …

No, it’s not the start of a a joke. There was a little
problem in Threeze — and by “little” I specifically mean
“little” — and Floosh and I had decided that Vae might as
well be the one to solve it. Kaim-Su insisted that
Seeks-No-Distant-Love come along, but she’s still moping, so
she required Rhedwy into coming with us instead. (I am
unclear on exactly how that works.)

But Floosh didn’t want Vae to go to Threeze. (For monsters
reading: Threeze isn’t a city, so it’s not doorwaying for
monsters to go there. But the residents don’t generally
encourage it.) So we had to meet Riverred at
St. Andawhale’s Tavern in St. Andawhale.

I have learned somewhat more how to appreciate Orren since I
saw her last. It doesn’t help. She’s still dented-in and
ugly. She still drips blood out of the corner of her left
eye. She’s still willful and determined. She put herself
in charge of the cooking project when Floosh isn’t around — not the cooking,
she can’t do that, but the administration. Someone has to
take her around to the farmers and such, ’cause she really
can’t travel on roads on her own. But the someone is Allu,
who was named Chompramirthian when I was there last, and
Allu wouldn’t be much help in the kitchen.

(That sounds bad, but it’s not. Allu is doesn’t like
cooking very much and isn’t very good at it, is all.)

In any case, there are Orren — even Orren whose hands have
been many places on my body — whom I do not find
appealing. This may surprise many people, but it is quite true.

We didn’t look nearly as alarming as we were. Vae looked
like an Orren girl, because she does that sometimes for her
own reasons and she does it reasonably well. I looked like
an Orren girl, because I do that sometimes for my own
reasons … well, my boyfriend’s own reasons … and I do
it reasonably well. Rhedwy looked like a Sleeth, so people
were a touch scared anyways, but not as much as they would
have been if they knew what Vae was.

Why We Had To Do This

The ovens in Threeze were too small for the amount of
cooking that Floooooosh was going to have her family and
assistants do there. For some reason, that tiny fishing
village isn’t really equipped to make luxury pastry
breakfast boxes for all of Oorah Thrassen … unaccountable,
really.

The first thought was to make some makeshift ovens, probably
by digging caves in a hillside and putting fires in them or
something. Floosh didn’t like that idea very much ’cause
the heat might come out uneven without lots of Ruloc
Pyrador, which is always messy.

Me:“But we have this really good Mutoc Locador
specialist on the project already. Vae could probably make
the ovens big enough to bake Oorah Thrassen, much less the
cakes for it.”

Flooosh:“I don’t particularly want Vae in
Threeze.”

So we had Riverred bring bits of the oven to Vae, so that
Vae could cast a slightly fancier spell on them from far
away. Locador is good for that, if it’s not going through
city walls or something. It wasn’t a hard thing to do, by
Vae’s standards. Someday, I imagine, I’ll be good enough to
cast that spell. Glikkonen might be able to spont it, for
all I know, and surely zie could weave it or cast it.

The Aftermath

And that was that, as far as the oven was concerned. We
spent more time getting there (two-thirds of an hour from my
door to the Halflight Gate to meet Vae, a ninth of an hour
arranging disguises, a ninth of an hour having The
Conversation (I lost count at 28, some time ago) in advance
so I wouldn’t have to do it while I was there, one tailtap
to take us to St. Andawhale) than we did fixing the oven (a
third of an hour to chat with Riverred, five tailtaps to
deal with the five ovens).

Of course, everyone in St. Andawhale noticed five huge
Locador spells being cast in quick succession in the room.
Everyone (who were a dozen or so elderly retired Rassimel
and Herethroy countryfolk) turned and stared at us.

Rhedwy peered back at the everyone with that hideous blank
Sleeth expression, and remarked in a loud voice, “This is
the good plan. I cannot eat the whole body of the whole
victim, even if I am very hungry. The remains can be
remained in a pocket universe, for nobody to find ever.”

People stopped looking at us, at least. Most of them left
the room over the next ninth of an hour.

Me:“We shall have to tip very well.”

Rhedwy:“Why? They leave of their own choice.
We do not threaten them!”

Vae:“What do you mean, Sythyry? ‘Tip’ means
’tilt’, more or less, doesn’t it?”
[In the original:
"'Tip' means 'scoop', more or less, doesn't it?" -bb]

Me:“‘Tip’ means ‘chflekcy’” Which it
does, not that I really like knowing it.

Vae:“Oh! Certainly!”

Riverred:“‘Checky’?”

Me:“She taught me another language, by brute
force.”
I had to explain the story.

Riverred looked suitably horrified, which I suppose is
good. She assaulted Vae, which I suppose is not so good.
Here is a schematic diagram of the assault:

Riverred’s Assault Vae’s Counter
How dare you? I didn’t know it was going to be a bad thing.
But … mind magic! There’s no other way to learn a language.
You could have just translated! I didn’t think of that.
You’re not very smart, are you? I don’t know … probably not.
You don’t know the first thing about living in decent society. Sythyry’s trying to teach me though … it’s not going
very well.
Primes are destined to control the whole Tree I can’t even control half my own mind.
You really shouldn’t be here. I probably shouldn’t be anywhere.

At which point I found it necessary to rescue the poor
nendrai. (No, I didn’t think I’d ever say that.) She looked
like she was about to start crying, and I didn’t want to pay
for a bloodied-up tablecloth (Riverred just drips on her
fur, and wipes her face every once in a while) or
drive off the remaining patrons.

Rhedwy, of course, was smirking. A lot.

sythyry: (Default)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

I’m Not Infatuated. Really. [20 Chireb 4261]

The word “Zanniajaia” is the name of a long quick sinuous
molluscish sort of fish with a segmented shell, from
Mrasteia. Not that I looked in five dictionaries to find
that out. Not that I’m the least bit infatuated.

You can’t be unfaithful to your boyfriend simply by looking
in some dictionaries, can you? Even if he’s a linguist?

Here’s the conversation that didn’t happen:

Me:“Hallo! I’m a notoriously and radiently
traff Zi Ri with many important political connections and a
dear but frequently inconsiderate boyfriend!”

Zanniajaia:“Hallo! I am a wealthy and
deliciously traff Orren! I am consumed with sympathy for
your plight! Fortunately I have a white charger, with which
I shall gallop into your woeful bedchamber, sweep you up,
narrowly avoid falling off, and rescue you from your mean,
mean, ashamed boyfriend!”

Me:“Yay!”

The actual conversation was much more subtle. To the point
of being, well, just a conversation about, well, how
different it is to walk on two and four feet, and yes, she
does plan to get Cloak of Another God at some point,
but first Wizard’s Lens. (Could I copy it for her
and give it to her? That’s an awfully expensive present
… but magic students do trade spells traditionally.)
She’s currently interested in teleport chains and finding
the flaws in them and making new ones without the flaws
(which I don’t think anyone has done for thousands of
years).

It’s amazing what you can’t discuss in a ninth-of-an-hour
chat after class. Where’s she from? She doesn’t sound
quite like a Vheshrame native, but I can’t place the accent.
What rank is she? Well-born, certainly. I would bet half
my feathers that she’s a non-inheriting child of a baron,
but that’s just based on jewelry and the fact that she
didn’t mention any baronning in her plans. Is she traff? If
she had a copy of Love in Hiding, it was in hiding.

And what am I going to say to Ilottat tonight?
’cause, yes, I am finally going to turn into a basic-brown
Orren girl and waddle over to the embassy and, I hope, boink
him silly and turn back into a Zi Ri and keep my heart in
one place like a sensible little lizard.

(And, for monsters reading this — yes, Orren do, happily,
cuddle up in triads and quartets and whatevers. No, Ilottat
is not interested. He’s married to one Orren and
that’s about one Orren and two Khtsoyis more than enough.)

sythyry: (Default)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

I’m Not Infatuated. Really. [20 Chireb 4261]

The word “Zanniajaia” is the name of a long quick sinuous
molluscish sort of fish with a segmented shell, from
Mrasteia. Not that I looked in five dictionaries to find
that out. Not that I’m the least bit infatuated.

You can’t be unfaithful to your boyfriend simply by looking
in some dictionaries, can you? Even if he’s a linguist?

Here’s the conversation that didn’t happen:

Me:“Hallo! I’m a notoriously and radiently
traff Zi Ri with many important political connections and a
dear but frequently inconsiderate boyfriend!”

Zanniajaia:“Hallo! I am a wealthy and
deliciously traff Orren! I am consumed with sympathy for
your plight! Fortunately I have a white charger, with which
I shall gallop into your woeful bedchamber, sweep you up,
narrowly avoid falling off, and rescue you from your mean,
mean, ashamed boyfriend!”

Me:“Yay!”

The actual conversation was much more subtle. To the point
of being, well, just a conversation about, well, how
different it is to walk on two and four feet, and yes, she
does plan to get Cloak of Another God at some point,
but first Wizard’s Lens. (Could I copy it for her
and give it to her? That’s an awfully expensive present
… but magic students do trade spells traditionally.)
She’s currently interested in teleport chains and finding
the flaws in them and making new ones without the flaws
(which I don’t think anyone has done for thousands of
years).

It’s amazing what you can’t discuss in a ninth-of-an-hour
chat after class. Where’s she from? She doesn’t sound
quite like a Vheshrame native, but I can’t place the accent.
What rank is she? Well-born, certainly. I would bet half
my feathers that she’s a non-inheriting child of a baron,
but that’s just based on jewelry and the fact that she
didn’t mention any baronning in her plans. Is she traff? If
she had a copy of Love in Hiding, it was in hiding.

And what am I going to say to Ilottat tonight?
’cause, yes, I am finally going to turn into a basic-brown
Orren girl and waddle over to the embassy and, I hope, boink
him silly and turn back into a Zi Ri and keep my heart in
one place like a sensible little lizard.

(And, for monsters reading this — yes, Orren do, happily,
cuddle up in triads and quartets and whatevers. No, Ilottat
is not interested. He’s married to one Orren and
that’s about one Orren and two Khtsoyis more than enough.)

sythyry: (Default)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

Weighty Considerations[18 Chirreb 4261]

Remarkably, the greatest number of the monsters agree with
me.

I did, in fact, say very little about what to do with the
mouse, or the Gormoror adventurers, and decide to ask the
Duke or at least Kaim-Su for recommendations on this topic.
I diverted her by asking how she knew they were there to
kill her, and she told me about some nastily enchanted
crossbow bolts and some very heavy fire spells, and invited
me to look at them with the Eye.

I did. They were nastily enchanted crossbow bolts and very
heavy fire spells. I also looked at her defenses concerning
nastily enchanted crossbow bolts and very heavy fire spells.
The crossbow bolts were fired from some dozens of miles away
(though the crossbow was only a few feet from Vae’s big ugly
head at the time), and those miles were full of wood and
wind, according to the spell that blocked them, though most
of the rest of us wouldn’t have agreed. There was another
spell that would twist crossbow paths into eternal knots,
and another to turn the crossbow bolts into so many memories
of childrens’ verses, and … well, if you really care, you
can read the Ducal report. (Or if you can’t, probably best
if you don’t.)

Actually I didn’t spend the time to dissect her defenses
just then, Prof. Gostegg and some of the grad students in
Dissection of Spells did it later…

… which was delightful, really. It meant that I got to sit
on the shoulder of one Zanniajaia, who is a member of my
preferred species, and, yes, my preferred coloration too.
There aren’t that many blue Orren — they’re mostly brown –
but the few blue ones are to be cultivated, and, when
possible, sat upon. Or otherwise provided with
opportunities to compare our coloration.

No, it’s not just about camoflage.

And now, it’s time for a miscellany, or, perhaps, even, an
assortment.

  1. Question for later consideration: Should I fret
    about finding another Orren particularly appealing, when
    Ilottat is being particularly inattentive?
  2. I offered Real-Eel the mouse, but I started by
    explaining to her what it was and offering not to show it to
    her. She preferred to never see it at all. I’m not quite
    sure what to do with it now… it’s in a box in a spare
    closet at Quelldrie House. I hope to forget it and leave it
    there, until either I reread this diary in a thousand years
    or until some poor crown prince of Daukrhame or something
    stumbles on it.
  3. I asked various people, mostly city guard, about the policy
    on having nendrai torture their prisoners. The general
    reaction was, “Anyone who attacks a nendrai should be
    prepared to pay the price. At any rate, we have no great
    desire to challenge a nendrai over the lives of mere
    foreigners.”

    “But that’s horrible!” I said.

    “You may try to talk her out of it, if you wish.”

    I might.

  4. Seeks-Veils evidently proposed marriage to her lover in
    Rusunder. He refused to move to Vheshrame for her. Now
    Seeks-Veils does not have a lover in Rusunder any more, or
    anywhere else, as far as the rumors know. She said (to
    Havune and Ghirbis — I was, unfortunately, busy observing
    mice) that she was going to go screw someone easy like
    Nestrune silly in revenge. Nestrune, less unfortunately,
    was in class at the time. By the time Havune told either of
    us, she was no longer available to non-Orren anymore. At
    least, even I have more sense than to make a pass at someone
    who just changed her name to Seeks-Perpetual-Virginity.
  5. Question for later consideration: Should I fret
    about wishing for an opportunity with Seeks-Someone-Easy,
    especially when Ilottat is being particularly inattentive?
  6. Question for later consideration: Should I fret
    about missing an opportunity with Seeks-Someone-Easy,
    especially when Ilottat is being particularly inattentive?
  7. I managed to catch Ilottat in the pond, in Orren form (yes,
    O sarcastic monsters, I was in Orren form — we both were)
    and we had a few bubbly underwater kisses. He sort of kind
    of agreed to see me tonight. I unstrategially mentioned
    something about Orren-on-Orren kissing. I am not seeing him
    tonight.
  8. Question for later consideration: Should I fret
    about missing an opportunity with Ilottat,
    especially when Ilottat is being particularly inattentive?
  9. Question for later consideration: Should I fret about
    not being distraught over missing an opportunity with
    Ilottat, especially when Ilottat is being particularly
    inattentive?

sythyry: (Default)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

Weighty Considerations[18 Chirreb 4261]

Remarkably, the greatest number of the monsters agree with
me.

I did, in fact, say very little about what to do with the
mouse, or the Gormoror adventurers, and decide to ask the
Duke or at least Kaim-Su for recommendations on this topic.
I diverted her by asking how she knew they were there to
kill her, and she told me about some nastily enchanted
crossbow bolts and some very heavy fire spells, and invited
me to look at them with the Eye.

I did. They were nastily enchanted crossbow bolts and very
heavy fire spells. I also looked at her defenses concerning
nastily enchanted crossbow bolts and very heavy fire spells.
The crossbow bolts were fired from some dozens of miles away
(though the crossbow was only a few feet from Vae’s big ugly
head at the time), and those miles were full of wood and
wind, according to the spell that blocked them, though most
of the rest of us wouldn’t have agreed. There was another
spell that would twist crossbow paths into eternal knots,
and another to turn the crossbow bolts into so many memories
of childrens’ verses, and … well, if you really care, you
can read the Ducal report. (Or if you can’t, probably best
if you don’t.)

Actually I didn’t spend the time to dissect her defenses
just then, Prof. Gostegg and some of the grad students in
Dissection of Spells did it later…

… which was delightful, really. It meant that I got to sit
on the shoulder of one Zanniajaia, who is a member of my
preferred species, and, yes, my preferred coloration too.
There aren’t that many blue Orren — they’re mostly brown –
but the few blue ones are to be cultivated, and, when
possible, sat upon. Or otherwise provided with
opportunities to compare our coloration.

No, it’s not just about camoflage.

And now, it’s time for a miscellany, or, perhaps, even, an
assortment.

  1. Question for later consideration: Should I fret
    about finding another Orren particularly appealing, when
    Ilottat is being particularly inattentive?
  2. I offered Real-Eel the mouse, but I started by
    explaining to her what it was and offering not to show it to
    her. She preferred to never see it at all. I’m not quite
    sure what to do with it now… it’s in a box in a spare
    closet at Quelldrie House. I hope to forget it and leave it
    there, until either I reread this diary in a thousand years
    or until some poor crown prince of Daukrhame or something
    stumbles on it.
  3. I asked various people, mostly city guard, about the policy
    on having nendrai torture their prisoners. The general
    reaction was, “Anyone who attacks a nendrai should be
    prepared to pay the price. At any rate, we have no great
    desire to challenge a nendrai over the lives of mere
    foreigners.”

    “But that’s horrible!” I said.

    “You may try to talk her out of it, if you wish.”

    I might.

  4. Seeks-Veils evidently proposed marriage to her lover in
    Rusunder. He refused to move to Vheshrame for her. Now
    Seeks-Veils does not have a lover in Rusunder any more, or
    anywhere else, as far as the rumors know. She said (to
    Havune and Ghirbis — I was, unfortunately, busy observing
    mice) that she was going to go screw someone easy like
    Nestrune silly in revenge. Nestrune, less unfortunately,
    was in class at the time. By the time Havune told either of
    us, she was no longer available to non-Orren anymore. At
    least, even I have more sense than to make a pass at someone
    who just changed her name to Seeks-Perpetual-Virginity.
  5. Question for later consideration: Should I fret
    about wishing for an opportunity with Seeks-Someone-Easy,
    especially when Ilottat is being particularly inattentive?
  6. Question for later consideration: Should I fret
    about missing an opportunity with Seeks-Someone-Easy,
    especially when Ilottat is being particularly inattentive?
  7. I managed to catch Ilottat in the pond, in Orren form (yes,
    O sarcastic monsters, I was in Orren form — we both were)
    and we had a few bubbly underwater kisses. He sort of kind
    of agreed to see me tonight. I unstrategially mentioned
    something about Orren-on-Orren kissing. I am not seeing him
    tonight.
  8. Question for later consideration: Should I fret
    about missing an opportunity with Ilottat,
    especially when Ilottat is being particularly inattentive?
  9. Question for later consideration: Should I fret about
    not being distraught over missing an opportunity with
    Ilottat, especially when Ilottat is being particularly
    inattentive?

sythyry: (Default)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

Piffish Noodles and Pain [18 Chirreb 4261]

I duly delivered the piffish noodles to Vae, along with the
paper that she requested. (She is going to write a story,
with prime characters, sort of along the lines of the
childrens’ stories I’ve been selling her. She wanted to
write it on prime paper, therefore. (I think she’s fishing
for good things to get from Vheshrame — the fact that she
generically craves prime things doesn’t mean she wants
anything in particular. Or anything sensible.) I promised
her I’d read it. I’m sure I’ll be able to find something
polite to say.)

That is not true of all her artistry.

Vae:“There’s a little present I made for Real-Eel,
like. Since I can’t send the Vingi of hers off to the
wherever of his.”

Me:“Well, that’s nice and polite of you.
Nothing that would get her in trouble with the Duke, I
hope?”

Vae:“No, just a mouse.”

Me:“Well, I daresay the ducal taxes on mice
aren’t so large. May I see this famous mouse?”

Vae:“Oh, my surely!” I am annoyed with
her, so I am translating her a bit more literally than I
sometimes do. She was speaking the Nice Language, which she
often does to me. I don’t generally speak it back to her.

I am annoyed with her because it wasn’t a very pleasant
mouse to look at. It was an even less pleasant mouse to be,
I think. It was trapped in a little bubble of braided
places, so it could run for yards and yards, without ever
leaving the palm of your hand. It was being chased by
little fire wasps. Every once in a while, a tiny
rabbit-goblin would appear and ram a tiny Locador-composed
needle through its paw, and then heal it with a really nasty
jagged Mutoc healing spell.

Me:“Um … Vae? What is this about?”

Vae:“Oh, nothing but a model is it, but it’s
neat and appealing. The thought’s on me that Real-Eel would
like it.”

Me:“I can’t think why. She’s not wholly
horrid.”

(I just realized that I called Vaisessasilmin wholly horrid,
which probably isn’t wise. Either she didn’t notice, or she
didn’t want to argue the point. (Yes, she is wholly horrid,
but at least she doesn’t take offense at me very easily.))

Vae:“I hope she likes it.”

Me:“I suppose we can give it to the
Sleeth.”
Then something wholly horrid occurred to me.
As I get more used to Vae I should start to realize these
things earlier. “What’s it a model for?”

Vae:“Oh, it’s some Gormoror assassins from
Psent who need their punishing. It’s bone insects painted
green they are until I decide what to do with them…. Is
there a good idea with you, Sythyry?”

Oh, dearie.

[Poll #551629]

sythyry: (Default)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

Piffish Noodles and Pain [18 Chirreb 4261]

I duly delivered the piffish noodles to Vae, along with the
paper that she requested. (She is going to write a story,
with prime characters, sort of along the lines of the
childrens’ stories I’ve been selling her. She wanted to
write it on prime paper, therefore. (I think she’s fishing
for good things to get from Vheshrame — the fact that she
generically craves prime things doesn’t mean she wants
anything in particular. Or anything sensible.) I promised
her I’d read it. I’m sure I’ll be able to find something
polite to say.)

That is not true of all her artistry.

Vae:“There’s a little present I made for Real-Eel,
like. Since I can’t send the Vingi of hers off to the
wherever of his.”

Me:“Well, that’s nice and polite of you.
Nothing that would get her in trouble with the Duke, I
hope?”

Vae:“No, just a mouse.”

Me:“Well, I daresay the ducal taxes on mice
aren’t so large. May I see this famous mouse?”

Vae:“Oh, my surely!” I am annoyed with
her, so I am translating her a bit more literally than I
sometimes do. She was speaking the Nice Language, which she
often does to me. I don’t generally speak it back to her.

I am annoyed with her because it wasn’t a very pleasant
mouse to look at. It was an even less pleasant mouse to be,
I think. It was trapped in a little bubble of braided
places, so it could run for yards and yards, without ever
leaving the palm of your hand. It was being chased by
little fire wasps. Every once in a while, a tiny
rabbit-goblin would appear and ram a tiny Locador-composed
needle through its paw, and then heal it with a really nasty
jagged Mutoc healing spell.

Me:“Um … Vae? What is this about?”

Vae:“Oh, nothing but a model is it, but it’s
neat and appealing. The thought’s on me that Real-Eel would
like it.”

Me:“I can’t think why. She’s not wholly
horrid.”

(I just realized that I called Vaisessasilmin wholly horrid,
which probably isn’t wise. Either she didn’t notice, or she
didn’t want to argue the point. (Yes, she is wholly horrid,
but at least she doesn’t take offense at me very easily.))

Vae:“I hope she likes it.”

Me:“I suppose we can give it to the
Sleeth.”
Then something wholly horrid occurred to me.
As I get more used to Vae I should start to realize these
things earlier. “What’s it a model for?”

Vae:“Oh, it’s some Gormoror assassins from
Psent who need their punishing. It’s bone insects painted
green they are until I decide what to do with them…. Is
there a good idea with you, Sythyry?”

Oh, dearie.

[Poll #551629]

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