Content warning: It's only a robe if you wear something under it.


"Baeloth?"

The drow hummed inquisitively as he continued applying a smooth layer of concealer across his dark skin. He had to be particularly careful around his eyes, though the black eyeliner would doubtless help with that part...

"How did you get rid of her globe? It should have been impossible for your diminished state, given what we found in her spellbook. Don't mistake me, I'm definitely glad that you did, but I wanted to know how, just in case I might be able to learn something from it." Damion frowned at his own reflection from where he stood next to the sorcerer, trying to remember how to fluff the ruffles of his shirt and make them stay fluffed. "I don't think anyone else could have done that."

"Nobody else could have, no. Some standard casters think they're so smart, but when it comes to stuff such as the secrets of sorcerers, you're all shambles." Baeloth fought to keep the smug grin from crossing his face as he continued to artfully coat himself with makeup. "Metamagic, my most meddlesome man. I heightened the spell to cast it at the level of power I used to once be at. Believe you me, there were none so powerful as I from whence I came."

"The blood you were spitting up wasn't only from the cloudkill spell, was it."

"Tsh. Too observant for your own good. I -have- been healed, you know." The sorcerer eased some of the soft red stain along his lower lip, only to press his lips together. He almost wished he had more time so that he could have done his own hair, but as it stood there was a necromancer and cleric of Shar directly behind him working his long white locks into a series of intricate braids.

"I know. I-Ow! Edwin!" Damion flinched as the Thavian sneered and continued to pull the archers slicked back hair into a tight tail, tying the short tuft off at the nape of his neck.

"Your hair is neither short enough to style properly, nor long enough to properly tie back. (Seriously, must the chimp make -everything- difficult, simply by breathing?)"

"Try and leave some attached, is all I ask." He grimaced, before resuming adjusting the clothes that didn't quite fit him. "We only have two invitations. I'm using one, because Sarevok, and Baeloth is going because he somehow wears a dress better than Viconia and Xzar combined. That leaves you Edwin, Xzar, and Viconia that we need to get in. Xzar can pull the Zhentarim card - we really should report to them anyways and let them know that Sarevok's the only one left - but then that narrows it down to Viconia and Edwin..."

"(It is as if he thinks me born of low blood. Pfa!) Do not concern yourself with requiring a method to smuggle -me- in."

"-Which then leaves Viconia."

"Are you certain it is wise for us to be there?" Xzar kept his tone light as he and the cleric started to weave the mass of braids together into a series of larger ones.

"I wouldn't want you anywhere else. Let it never be said that I didn't give you ample opportunity to do your job." The bhaalspawn smirked slightly, studying his reflection. Viconia had lightened his complexion before he had carefully slipped the shirt on, and he lifted his chin to study how seamlessly it had been done. "You've gotten very good at this, Viconia."

"I have had ample time to practice. Even with the writ you arranged, it is a good skill to have here on the surface. You will not be able to smuggle your bow into this gathering." She frowned, still working with the necromancer on the braids.

"No. And I suppose that while I still prefer to shoot things, I'm less specialized than an archer at this point. I planned to take the short sword and a dagger, just in case."

"Do not be concerned with me. Shar is a goddess of trickery. I will need only six or so seconds of distraction."

"I'm presuming the ducal palace would normally have wards and the like, but considering Sarevok will be apparently able to just invite a pair of assassins-"

"M'lord?"

All five in front of the vanity in Duke Eltan's bedroom abruptly spun to face the maid as she stepped in and closed the door behind her.

"Oh good. It's just you lot."

"Xzar? Is this your door-opening contact?"

"It isss." The necromancer crossed the room, lifting his hands and clapping the slender figures shoulders. "Tell me you have news."

"It looks like there will be anywhere from six to ten doppelgangers there, with two greater." It reached up, scratching behind its ear before shrugging and looking to the others. "I can also smuggle one person in through the servant's quarters, but that's about it. Anything more and people will suspect. -My- people will suspect. It's hard enough as it is to hide that I'm actively stabbing them in the back doing this."

"Are all doppelgangers able to read minds?" The rogue turned back to the mirror, giving himself one last once-over as the Thavian brushed his shoulders off.

"Do not forget. Square shoulders, head high. You play the part of a noble. (This is going to fail the very moment he gets through the doors.)"

"Aye, all of us have that ability." It stepped around the necromancer with a bundle of clothes under its arm, and squinted at each of them in turn. "So who am I taking with me?"

"I suppose it will make my attempted entry easier." Viconia frowned, before narrowing her eyes. "How will I tell you from the others, if you needs must alter your own shape?"

"Its earring." Xzar stepped forward smoothly, moving back to help finish Baeloth's braids. "It matches the clasp of our cloak, yes? It is a cursed item, one that it can never remove. It and a number of its clan were forced to wear them by some few members of Bhaal's clergy, as he employed them as assassins and sought a method to mark them in a crowd."

"I wondered..." Damion frowned at his reflection before stepping aside so that Edwin could start preening himself. "So you serve Bhaal, then?"

"Not particularly. It was a matter of convenience, at the time. My clan lived in the city, and hunters started trying to track us down. We traded safety in exchange for indentured servitude." The doppelganger tucked the clothes onto the bed, before stretching idly.

"And what's your name?"

"It doesn't really matter, does it?"


"Invitations, please."

Baeloth deftly slipped both scrolls out of his clutch, batting his eyes as he smiled behind the fan he held in his other hand. His voice was a smooth soprano, and he swayed mesmerizingly where he stood slightly in front of Damion. "Here you are, Sir."

"Krystin, is it?" The guard glanced up from where he was reading the invitation, eyes glued to the Entertainers chest. Two remarkably realistic-looking mounds filled out the bodice of his high-collar, sleeveless jade silk dress generously.

"Mmyes Sir."

"Welcome to the Ducal Palace."

"Thank's, Hon. Slythie-baby, shall we?" Baeloth offered out his arm, and Damion fought the urge to took it graciously before the two of them strode in.

"Bae?"

"Yes baby?"

Damion leaned in to murmur into the sorcerer's ear, fighting to keep his face straight. "... How in the nine hells did you fill the chest of your dress out?"

"My bosom?" Baeloth turned his head to murmur back to the rogue. "Wineskins, you pleb. So long as they don't get squeezed they work wonders."

"Something tells me this isn't the first time you've done this."

The drow-in-disguise smirked at him from where he was whispering into his ear. "Is that a dagger in your pants, or are you just happy to see me."

The bhaalspawn rolled his eyes, grinning at how Baeloth batted his eyes before heading into the main hall.


Edwin offered the scroll out to the guard at the door, before fishing his amulet out of his vibrantly Thavian red robes so that the guard could clearly see the markings it possessed, as well as the large ruby in the center of it.

"S-Sir? This seal isn't-"

"You would deny a Son of Thay entry to the Ducal Palace? What occurs here today involves Thay as much as any nation." The conjurer sneered, lifting his chin even as he smoothly twisted his words to artfully intimidate his way in. "I am Edwin Odesseiron, son of Tharchion Homen Odesseiron of Surthay who was appointed to his station by Nevron, the Zulkir of Conjuration himself. (I shall make certain to speak with whoever is in charge for this indignity...!)"

"N-no! It's- Ah- Go on in, Sir!"

Edwin snatched his scroll back, sniffing as he swept in, privately glad that the guard hadn't actually opened it and realized it was simply a blank piece of parchment sealed with the Thavians own signet. He proceeded into the main hall, snagging a glass of champagne and moving to stand next to one of the walls, boredly watching the rest of the people. He kept his thoughts focused on critiquing what people were wearing.


Xzar offered his invitation to the guard at the door with a flourish. The Zhenarim hadn't been happy to see him back, but with a payment and report of how close they were to completing their job had been able to procure one on short notice. The guard checked it over and then eyed him up and down, taking in the black pantaloons and soft green doublet with its scarf tied in a poof under his chin and held in place by the pin he usually wore on his scarf. Soft, knee-high black leather boots and a belt that cinched his doublet in at the waist completed the outfit, and he had teased the markings he usually wore across his face into a subtler wave pattern, pencil thin. His hair was brushed and smooth, bangs partially curling across his face to hide one of his eyes and a large part of his forehead.

"Welcome to the Ducal Palace, Ser."

He accepted the invitation back, inclined his head politely and strutted into the palace. Once there, he let out a sigh and found a patch of wall in the main hall to lean against a patch of wall. The necromancer... Did not miss being crazy. He also most certainly remembered what it was like, and was fully aware of how the restoration hadn't completely fixed him. No, it had patched the cracks, but they were still visible. There were hours when they traveled that he tested his mind and memory to determine the extent of the remaining damage.

He engaged in such exercises as he waited, keeping his mind occupied.


Viconia had thought it would have been harder to sneak in through the servants quarters, even with the maid outfit and makeup she was wearing. As it were, they were understaffed and she quickly found both herself and the doppelganger escorting her out onto the floor with trays of drinks in their hands. She used no mental routines to keep her thoughts safe, only a small spell that protected her thoughts from being detected.

She settled near the buffet table and marked where each of her companions were, content to wait.


"Slythie-baby?"

"Yesmmm-!?"

Damion stiffened, fighting the urge to recoil as Baeloth pulled his head down for a kiss, partially turning them so that the bhaalspawn had his back to the crowd. As it were, he settled for putting his hands on the sorcerer's hips and closing his eyes, trying to pretend it was Viconia.

"... Don't look now, but your half-brother just made an appearance and was looking around." Baeloth grimaced, murmuring quietly against his lips and smoothing his gloved hands along Damion's slicked back hair. "You are a -terrible- kisser. Think he might have recognized you?"

"Did you -have- to-?"

"It's an act, and we -are- being watched. Best make it realistic, hmm? Try not to turn -too- red. It also was to prevent you from charging across the room." The sorcerer winked, before glancing past him. "Besides, I can watch for people in the room like this without looking -too- terribly suspicious."

"... I suppose I should thank you then." The Bhaalspawn grimaced, stifling a shudder. "I probably would have gone across the room. If we wait for the attack, not only will it look less like people trying to attack him out of turn, but it will also gain us allies against him. We -should- move closer to the Dukes, however."

"Yes, yes, and it's -our- main goal to protect -them-, after all, while -you- chase your half-brother. I would like to just point out that you don't likely stand a chance against him. He has a good foot of height on you, and looks to be wearing plate armor."

"Aww, Bae, honey~..." Damion looked hurt for a moment. "Just like I keep telling Xzar, have some -faith-."


This light chapter was remarkably fun to write. The best part about a group that consists mostly of wizards is that it's easy to smuggle them into fancy gatherings.
Nimloth! Good to hear from you!
Truth be told I didn't even -really-remember Cythandria until I replayed the game. I don't think I gave her much of a chance to talk. I just remembered there was a mage there and fireballed the hallway into submission before walking down it to loot the corpse. And of course Edwin has a point, he's a Thavian. He probably has had to deal with people trying to break others out of confinement and got sick and tired of wasting resources on it.
Also, Baeloth's charisma is 17. The highest in the group. Of course he's the one that looks the best in an actual dress. Questions? Comments? Consistency issues?
Leave a message after the tone,
-KD