"Oh, gods! It spit up on the carpet! CHAR! Get over here and magic this away!"

Lana held a baby in each arm; Char had one in each arm, one in his lap, and was rocking the cradle of another with his feet.

"Are you mad? I can't get up!" he cried, resisting the urge to wave his arms.

Lana sighed and tried not to scream. The babies had been crying for five hours and the Queen had not yet returned from her meeting.

"What are you sighing about now, woman?" Char snapped, not realizing that his use of the term "woman" would cost him dearly.

Lana stalked over, cracking her knuckles.

Char attempted a smile but ended up flinching. (Lana was a very scary person.)

"I said, um, what they sighing about, the women, um, downstairs..."

"We'll see who's sighing and who's screaming in pain when we get out of here." Lana said, returning to her charges.

Char looked down at his feet and mumbled, "At least she didn't kill me..."

"Yes, I haven't killed you- YET."

Char paled.

[A Few Hours Later]

"Char, my good fellow, what say you to a spiffing round of poker? I know a lovely place we could go and sit."

"Oh, heavens no! I just couldn't leave the babies! They're my pride and joy!"

"You know, girls don't really sound like that."

"Well, the ones I know d- AUGFH! What was that for?"

"For being an enormous butt."

"I can only assume you're not speaking of my actual derriere."

"No, I'm speaking of your personality."

"That was rather offensive. What kind of Lady are you?"

"The kind that beats the shutchamouth out of Lords who aren't considerate to the Ladies around them." Lana cracked her knuckles again.

"Shutchamouth?" Char looked confused. "Never mind- Hey! The devil babies have stopped screaming!"

"Praise the Mother!"

"Praise Mithros!"

"WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!" The babies began screaming again.

Lana swore offensively for several minutes and sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Char- I think we're nearing the end. We'll never get out of here alive."

He nodded.

"This is not my fault, you know."

"Are you implying that it's mine?"

"The child or the fault?"

"The fault!"

"Yes."