>>5419692>>5419832>>5419846>>5419981>>5420039>>5420137>We are actually secret agents. That's just our cover, we were testing him. We need his help to push back the gnome menace. We just need the code phrase from him so we know he isn't some kind of skin stealer.You clear your throat and tone your voice down an octave. “Actually, sir, we’re wizard agents with the DRAGONNADES in disguise. We need your help to push back against that damnable royal intelligence network.” You think it fit to have a little fun with him. “We just need the code phrase from you so we know you’re authentic, sir.”
“Ah, yes.. yes. I see. A pair wizard agents with the DRAGONNADES in disguise, of course. I knew the real SIGRID wasn’t that fat. The code word-.. that would be TWEE DODEN DWAZEN.” The old man barks back. You hear a click of the door. “Now, please, come in.”
“I wouldn’t do that–” Your master begins, but she’s too late. You lobby the door open to a rifle’s end. You go blind and deaf with a crack that pierces your ears and a flash of white.
You stumble back flat onto your butt, your face pale. A few smoking bullets hang frozen in the air before you, a magical green wall crumpling the lead like paper. Your master sighs. “Yes, it really is me, LUD. And do be more mindful of that gun.” The bullets fall to the ground along your feet as your master presses past you. “If you keep firing with your wrist bent like that, you’ll snap it like a twig. Then what use will you be to me?”
“Ah, so it is you.. hmph. You’ve gotten real fat, Sigrid.” A tall, wiry old man in a trenchcoat and with strange headgear peers out from behind the door. “And you, boy! I could see right through that ridiculous act of yours. You ought to be more careful with what you say in this city. You’d have lead run through your head without this witch beside you. And who even is this kid, Sigrid? Your little brother? Or son?”
“Apprentice.” Sigrid responds dully. “I’m here on business, Lud. Shall we?”
“Bah! You took on an apprentice?! You?!” He snorts, not bothering to stifle his strange, creaking laughter. The glassblower turns back to you. “What, boy, do you even get out this nasty old frau?! I can’t imagine she’s taught you anything useful. You’d best run away while you’ve still got your youth–get an apprenticeship with a witch that’s nicer, or a little hotter.”
>Defend your master. She’s got her strong points.>Ignore the question. Insist that he get on with business. You’re short on time here.>Eh.. maybe he has a point about some things..>Write-In. 