Chapter Two: Life Swap

"AAAAAAAAHHHH!" the identical strangers shrieked in unison.

The drunkard on the floor below them stirred grumpily. "Knock it off, or I'll run you through with…" He groped around on the floor heedlessly. "Where's my sword?"

"This filthy casteless stole it, usurped your place in the Proving, and used your name to defraud the entire city of Orzammar." Duran pointed accusingly at his strange clone.

"Oh, okay. As long as nothing important is happening." With that, Everd promply collapsed back onto the floor.

Duran shook his head in disbelief. "Is there anything this guy can't sleep through?"

"I know!" Faren exclaimed. "I actually stepped on his face a couple of times while I was suiting up, and all he did was call me 'honey' and try to snuggle with my boot."

"Don't try to change the subject, brand!" Duran snapped. "How dare you pollute this sacred event with your tainted lineage?"

Faren just rolled his eyes. "Aw, come off it, princey, you're just mad 'cause I kicked you."

"Well, maybe a little…but mostly because of the tainted lineage thing!" Duran defended weakly. " I ought to turn you in, but then I'd have to tell everyone I got clobbered by a guy who doesn't even exist."

"I do so exist!" Faren pinched the prince's cheeks roughly.

"Ow!"

"See?" The rogue smirked.

"I just meant, in an abstract social and religious context, you—ow!" Duran howled, rubbing his freshly poked eyes.

"Yeah, you definitely felt that one," Faren snickered. "I think you're in denial, buddy." He punctuated this statement with another swift kick in the prince's kneecaps.

"Ow! Okay, I believe in you! I'll even clap my hands if you want, just quit it!" the prince whimpered, reaching for his shield.

The casteless dwarf rolled his eyes. "You nobles are pathetic. You wouldn't last five seconds in my shoes."

"Oh please! You think you've got it rough?" Duran challenged. "Well, my own brothers have been trying to kill me for years. It all started in nursery school, when Trian 'accidentally' dipped my teething ring in a jar of nug poison."

"Aw, that's nothing," Faren scoffed. "My own mom tried to drown me at birth like an unwanted pet. Luckily, she was really drunk at the time, so she wound up trying to drown me in a colander."

"Hey, you're lucky you even have a mom," Duran countered. "I'm starting to think I hatched from an egg or something. I've never seen my mother and nobody has so much as mentioned her name to me."

"Well, I can top that!" Faren shouted, his anger management issues starting to show. "I'm twenty-odd years old and I've never even had a girlfriend! I mean, honestly, who is there for me? All the pretty casteless girls become noble hunters, all the ugly casteless girls become prostitutes, and there just don't seem to be any girls in the middle of the spectrum."

"Oh, don't get me started on noble hunters!" Duran roared furiously. "Ever since I hit legal age, those crazy chicks have been stalking me all over Orzammar! How many times do I have to tell them? No means no! I'm not playing hard to get, here!"

"Oh, boo-hoo," sneered Faren. "I…wait a minute!" He seized the prince by the front of his armor. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

The prince's eyes lit up. "I think I am. I'll get the rubber cement and the peacock feathers, you bring the confetti and the mop bucket, and we'll meet at the old salt mine."

Faren whacked his mysterious counterpart over the head with the hilt-end of his dagger. "No, stupid! I meant that we should switch places for a while." He smiled in anticipation. "Just imagine, me, an honest-to-goodness Aeducan! I'll get more action than Charlie Sheen!"

"Hey, that's actually not a bad idea," Duran mused. "I could hang out in Dust Town, live the simple, small town life, and maybe get some home-cooked meals. Which I could eat without some stupid poison taster picking through them first!"

"Just be careful, my mom has a tendency to spit in my food," Faren warned. "So, we're agreed?"

"Agreed." Duran stripped off his armor and Faren handed over his worn set of duster leather. The young prince's eyes sparkled. "Wow, a badass gangster costume made of real leather! This is so cool," he gushed, "I feel like one of Hell's Angels. What's the name of your gang?"

"The Carta."

Duran's face fell. "'The Carta'? That's it? That's kind of drab, isn't it? You should come up with something a bit more catchy, like 'The Dusters in Dusters' or 'The Name Brands' or something."

"Maybe you should pitch that to Beraht next time you see him," Faren snorted. "In which case, I'd just like to say, it was nice knowing you." He pulled on Duran's discarded armor. "Man, this stuff stinks! Haven't you ever had it washed?"

"Are you kidding me? This armor belonged to my great-grandpa, it's over a hundred years old! Even on the gentle cycle, that kind of treatment would probably reduce it to dust." Duran sighed bitterly. "Don't get me started. My dad's the richest man in Orzammar, and yet he persists in dressing me in centuries-old hand-me-downs. I don't know why everyone's always insisting that I'm his favorite."

The two lookalikes huddled in front of Everd's vanity mirror. "Wow, how spooky is that?" Faren breathed, staring from his own reflection to the prince's.

"Wait, your brand." Duran opened up a jar of concealer and dabbed some over the telltale tattoo on Faren's cheek.

"Hey, yeah, you'll need a brand of your own while we're at it." Faren grabbed a tube of lipstick and drew a matching mark on his counterpart's face. "That ought to do. Thank the stone Everd loves to primp."

"There's nothing wrong with a man wanting to look his best," snored Everd. "Now hand me my pillow and get out!"

The pair put on their helmets and emerged from Everd's locker room turned dressing room to find Gorim clutching Leske in a headlock. "Lord Aeducan," he wheezed, while Leske squirmed like a greased nug. "I've got him, sire. Shall I call the guards and have these dusters taken away?"

"No," Faren replied. "I'd rather you let him go. And gave him all your money. And that watch, too. I bet he'd like it."

"Aw, but sire…"

"Hey, who's the prince, here?" Faren barked.

Leske took the proffered wealth and ran, as usual. Duran followed, waving over his shoulder and shouting triumphantly. "Another grand caper by the Name Brands!"