Yes, (Patreon)

once again you are uncannily correct. Since I was back in Percysthorpe, and the O'Dor home was close by, I decided to go check on my daughter. What was that you had there? I thought I saw note cards before you stuffed whatever-it-was up your sleeve. You're not CHEATING with your guesses, are you?

(You emphatically deny it.)

Hmm. Well, let's continue with the story.

"I want to go check on my daughter, whom I left in the care of a lowfolk family," I explained to my attendant femmes.

"Follerin the ol' traditional ways, eh?" Burnside grinned.

"Why do elves leave their children in the care of lowfolk foster parents?" Rebecca asked.

"It used to be practiced mainly by the upper classes," I began.

"Makes the young'uns tough," Burnside blurted gruffly.

"Yes, I suppose that's the main reason," I admitted uncomfortably. "I want to see how the princess is faring, but I need to do it discreetly, because I don't want her mother finding out where she is."

"You mean Zandar, right?" Burnside guessed. "If she's such a durn troublemaker, I can get rid of 'er for you."

"She can't be killed," I replied.

"They's a few folks thought that, right up until I got hold of em," Burnside chuckled. "Turns out ever one of 'em was killable after all. You just gotta have patience an figure out the right way to do it."

"No, I don't want you carving up the mother of my child. Zandar has her purpose and it's all in Fuma's paws. Now then," I turned to Rebecca. "I need your help designing an outfit that would be worn by a typical lowfolk mel-about-town of this era."

It didn't take long to magick up a disguise and cast a glamer on myself so the O'Dors would think I was somebody they knew.

"You two conceal yourselves and wait outside," I instructed my entourage. "I'm afraid you both would scare them, for very different reasons."

I adjusted my necktie and approached the house. This should be a breeze. Why then did I feel so nervous?

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