Ozzie
Those who knew Ozzie would have told you that he was a fool. Not a stupid fool, a highly intelligent, knowledgeable fool, but a fool nonetheless. And Ozzie encouraged this belief. But those who spoke about him like this, and laughed at him behind his back, would not have known him now. In his room, Ozzie had changed. Gone was the bumbling fool in the polka-dot pantaloons, and in his place stood a different being; alert, aware, poised despite his bulk. Nobody saw Ozzie like this, he made sure of it. Without the act, his cover was gone. His mission failed. His master - Ozzie broke into a cold sweat at the mere thought of him - his master betrayed. And Ozzie had seen what happened to those who disobeyed his master. But Ozzie was not going to disobey Yakra. He had been chosen for this mission for precisely that purpose. He had been trained to play his part perfectly - the fool who could talk a good plan, who could spot good commanders to do his thinking for him, and who could never do anything right when the heat was on. For nearly four years now he had been living from one day to the next, pretending to be this fictional person who had not existed until the fiend Ozzie served had sensed another, greater power arising to threaten him in his mastery of evil. And, sensing that this power was not one that could be confronted by conventional means, Yakra had decided on subterfuge. So Ozzie had gone undercover, and had been subtly foiling Magus' plans ever since. Nothing major - a botched battle here, a cult uncovered there, tiny flaws that would break apart Magus' empire when Yakra made his move. But for all of his skill, Ozzie was afraid. Afraid because his master had not made his move yet, afraid because every day he stayed like this it gradually seeped into his mind that he would somehow become what he pretended to be - foolish, bumbling, useless, doomed. He had heard rumours of some being that had kidnapped Queen Leene and been destroyed. Had that been his master? Had Ozzie's lifeline been severed? Had his life outside, the one thing that kept him going from one day to the next, been swept away? But Ozzie knew the futility of such thoughts. Yakra was all-powerful. If he was not there, then Ozzie would know for sure. But work called. Ozzie spent a few moment getting into character. With a skill that would leave the best actors speechless, he gradually changed. First went that stance, for the true Ozzie stood tall and proud, and it would never do for stupid, unfit Ozzie to be seen to even look decisive and effectual. So the shoulders slumped, the knees bent, the head went forwards until it rested almost beneath the shoulders. Next, the walk. Ozzie moved like a barely tethered balloon, light, silent. A few shambling rounds of his room had despatched the poise that had possessed him. And finally, Ozzie put on the voice. The slurred words, the thick accent, and there stood someone who could probably not spell his own name. And with the transformation complete, and all worries banished, Ozzie shuffled off to meet the brave new night.
Those who knew Ozzie would have told you that he was a fool. Not a stupid fool, a highly intelligent, knowledgeable fool, but a fool nonetheless. And Ozzie encouraged this belief. But those who spoke about him like this, and laughed at him behind his back, would not have known him now. In his room, Ozzie had changed. Gone was the bumbling fool in the polka-dot pantaloons, and in his place stood a different being; alert, aware, poised despite his bulk. Nobody saw Ozzie like this, he made sure of it. Without the act, his cover was gone. His mission failed. His master - Ozzie broke into a cold sweat at the mere thought of him - his master betrayed. And Ozzie had seen what happened to those who disobeyed his master. But Ozzie was not going to disobey Yakra. He had been chosen for this mission for precisely that purpose. He had been trained to play his part perfectly - the fool who could talk a good plan, who could spot good commanders to do his thinking for him, and who could never do anything right when the heat was on. For nearly four years now he had been living from one day to the next, pretending to be this fictional person who had not existed until the fiend Ozzie served had sensed another, greater power arising to threaten him in his mastery of evil. And, sensing that this power was not one that could be confronted by conventional means, Yakra had decided on subterfuge. So Ozzie had gone undercover, and had been subtly foiling Magus' plans ever since. Nothing major - a botched battle here, a cult uncovered there, tiny flaws that would break apart Magus' empire when Yakra made his move. But for all of his skill, Ozzie was afraid. Afraid because his master had not made his move yet, afraid because every day he stayed like this it gradually seeped into his mind that he would somehow become what he pretended to be - foolish, bumbling, useless, doomed. He had heard rumours of some being that had kidnapped Queen Leene and been destroyed. Had that been his master? Had Ozzie's lifeline been severed? Had his life outside, the one thing that kept him going from one day to the next, been swept away? But Ozzie knew the futility of such thoughts. Yakra was all-powerful. If he was not there, then Ozzie would know for sure. But work called. Ozzie spent a few moment getting into character. With a skill that would leave the best actors speechless, he gradually changed. First went that stance, for the true Ozzie stood tall and proud, and it would never do for stupid, unfit Ozzie to be seen to even look decisive and effectual. So the shoulders slumped, the knees bent, the head went forwards until it rested almost beneath the shoulders. Next, the walk. Ozzie moved like a barely tethered balloon, light, silent. A few shambling rounds of his room had despatched the poise that had possessed him. And finally, Ozzie put on the voice. The slurred words, the thick accent, and there stood someone who could probably not spell his own name. And with the transformation complete, and all worries banished, Ozzie shuffled off to meet the brave new night.