Rebellious Tendencies

[pirateoftherings]

Phaerin had such wonderful ideas, Kjan reflected as he paused for the thirtieth time in as many minutes to let a group of men pass by. He really did. They were always phrased so innocently, too. Simple suggestions like 'Hey Kjan, let's go into that dark, mysterious cave,' or 'Let's explore that shut-down mine' or 'I bet I can drink more than you without passing out.' Things that always sounded promising at first, then quickly spiraled into very bad situations.

And then there was his latest brilliant idea: 'Kjan, we need to go sneak around a restricted area and gather classified information so I can satisfy my curiosity. Oh, sure, it's technically illegal, but who's going to catch us? If we're noticed, we just tell them we're lost.' Promising? Sure. Life-threatening?...It was starting to look that way. Unless the crossbows and huge, gleaming swords that the guards all carried were just for show, of course. Then there was absolutely nothing to worry about except guard dogs and potential imprisonment if they were caught.

"Are you absolutely certain this is necessary?" he muttered as they paused in a shadowed alcove to scope out the area. "We couldn't just walk in and say 'Hey, do you think you could maybe disclose your darkest secrets to us? Maybe a bit of incriminating evidence as well? Thanks, that'd be great'?"

[Meldawen]

Unfortunately, sarcasm was completely lost on Phaerin Grey at this particular point in time. "This is excellent, Kjan," he'd started saying even before his friend had finished speaking. "We're effectively invisible! The only tricky part will be to do a bit of reconnaissance in the administration wing of the palace." He made it sound rather like they were out for an afternoon walk in a park and were going to be mildly inconvenienced by a spot of bothersome rain, but really, none of it was very serious. Those who were acquainted with Phaerin knew exactly how dangerous the word 'tricky' was when it came out of his mouth.

The latest patrol passed, and the pair of them ventured out into the broad stone corridor again, attempting to march somewhat like the soldiers they'd passed. The attempt was feeble at best, which was why they generally stood still when other (real) soldiers were in the vicinity. Casting a hurried glance around, Phaerin unfolded a crumpled piece of parchment, stained in one corner with something that looked suspiciously like strawberry jam. It was a copy of the palace blueprints, gotten at high risk and studied intently by Phaerin. Which partly explained the strawberry jam. "We're here," he muttered to himself. "Administrative wing is here, and exit is here. Regent's address to the nobles is done one hour after noon. So we have to hurry."

He stuffed it in his pocket and strode off down the hallway, peering down alternate corridors and muttering to himself about various aspects of navigating the palace.

[pirateoftherings]

Kjan followed a step behind Phaerin, his expression an odd blend of curiosity and resignation. He wanted to do this. He really did. For all he might complain at times, he had an insatiable sense of curiosity to rival Phaerin's, and nearly as much recklessness. And the information they were trying to find really did sound intriguing. He just also happened to be rather fond of this thing called 'living,' and somehow, being in Phaerin's company tended to not be the most beneficial to his own general well-being. There was something about the man that seemed to just shout-

"Oi! You!"

Kjan froze momentarily before deciding that playing along would be best. "Ma'...Sir!" he quickly amended as he whirled around. "Yes, sir." Stars above, how could such an intimidating-looking man possess such an effeminate voice?

The commander - Kjan thought that was what the stripes meant, at least - appraised the two young men narrowly for a moment. "Where are the pair of you off to? And why are you not in formation?"

"Ah...we're lost," Kjan lied, roughening his accent slightly just to be safe. Not many noblemen enlisting in the army, these days. Not at such a low rank, at least. "Just joined today, sir, and we got separated, and the palace is a bit big, and...yeah."

"A bit small for a soldier, aren't we?" the commander asked, not looking very convinced.

A bit high-pitched for someone who shouts orders, aren't we?

"Well, sir, Papa always said that I could be anything-"

"Enough," the older man cut him off, holding up a hand. "What's your company number?"

At a loss, Kjan looked helplessly over at Phaerin.

[Meldawen]

"Twelve, sir," said Phaerin glibly, just as if he'd known all along. "M'father was in the twelfth and he made special arrangements, sir, so that I could -"

"You seem to be going quite the opposite direction you intended," said the man with a very toothy smile. "Follow me."

"Gladly, sir," said Phaerin, and winked at Kjan, falling in behind the burly officer. "Sounds like a girl," he mouthed soundlessly behind his back, indicating the officer gleefully. The tendency to make juvenile jokes hadn't left Phaerin Grey when adolescence had.

He was, however, the perfect model of a soldier when anyone was looking, and therefore attracted exactly no attention. His mother, the formidable Lady Grey, had commented once in a fit of displeasure that he might as well train to be one of those worthless traveling performers - a profession looked down upon by nobles in general - because although he was 'quite useless in anything else', his acting skills were flawless. She'd been quite irate at the time, over the small incident of the warhorse and the foreign ambassador's wife.

They emerged into a courtyard, onto which several low barracks opened, and the officer indicated them. "The Twelfth, gentlemen. Enjoy your stay."

Phaerin bowed, but he was already gone. "Might as well make ourselves useful, now we're here," he said to Kjan, already wearing that unsettling grin, and ducked into the building with the number twelve over its doorway.

[pirateoftherings]

"Do I know ye?"

Kjan looked down at his sleeve, which was currently being grasped rather firmly by a hand, which was attached to a rather thick arm, which was attached to an equally thick man, who had posed the aforementioned question. Glancing toward Phaerin's retreating form, Kjan smiled uneasily. "No, I'm afraid not," he said apologetically. "So I'll just be going now, shall I?" The man pulled him a bit closer, giving Kjan a lovely whiff of ale and body odor and a few other scents that he didn't care to identify. "Or, on second thought, there's always time to make a new friend, right? I'm Kjan. And you are...?"

"I've seen ye somewhere," the man insisted.

"We...share the same barracks?" Kjan offered weakly.

"Nonono," his new friend argued, shaking his head. "Seen ye somewhere 'round town or somethin'. Maybe at a tavern, or..."

"Can't say it rings a bell," Kjan interrupted quickly, starting to pry the man's fingers loose. And I assure you, I wouldn't forget a face as ugly as yours. Ah, finally! That man had an iron grip, he did. "Well, it was nice meeting you. I'll just see you around then, aye?" Waving, he quickly retreated before the man could decide to continue their stimulating conversation.


It took a bit of wandering around before he finally relocated Phaerin, who seemed to be engaged in a conversation of his own, though it involved far less...contact. The moment the discussion was over, Kjan pulled him aside. "There you are," he said quietly. "We can go soon, yes?"

[Meldawen]

Phaerin was looking, currently, as though his birthday had come early. "Oh aye," he said agreeably. "Offices are the two top floors of the east wing, and I've found out what to tell the guards to get past."

This probably wasn't the kind of 'going' Kjan had in mind, but Phaerin went anyway, with a wave in the direction of several men. Evidently he'd been a bit more popular.

As soon as they were around the next corner, he pulled out his map. "So we go this way, up two staircases, down these two hallways, and there we are." He squinted at it for a moment, and glanced at Kjan. "There may be necessity for a somewhat unorthodox method of escape afterwards."

[pirateoftherings]

"What? Oh, well, of course," Kjan replied, waving a hand dismissively. "I anticipated that the moment you showed up with that look on your face few days ago."

Kjan had long ago learned to read Phaerin's expressions, and he was all too familiar with the one that ineluctably led to bad - but admittedly fun - things. In fact, he couldn't think of an instance in which that expression hadn't led to a situation that needed escaping by some means or another. It had become his habit, whenever in the company of Phaerin, to make a point of identifying all potential exits, however unlikely. Even if the present circumstance didn't seem to call for a hasty escape, one never knew with Phaerin. The man could turn a trip to the market into a death-defying experience.

"What will it be this time?" he inquired in a tone that suggested that he was asking what kind of bread the cook would be serving with dinner, or some other trivial matter. "Hidden staircase? Rooftop? Diving from the window into the fountain below? Or do you have something even less orthodox in mind?"

[Meldawen]

"I was thinking," said Phaerin with a sidelong glance as they walked down the hallway, "that we could make use of the handy chute that comes down out of the - quick, this way." He hissed the last and pulled Kjan with him suddenly around a corner. From the handy cover of a large marble statue, they could see the feminine-voiced officer of before stroll past.

"Shhh," said Phaerin, rolling his eyes silently, and turned to go down the hallway, walking as quietly as he could. The halls were mostly empty, but there was always the possibility of coming upon someone around a corner. The guise of a soldier was all well and good, but Phaerin was reasonably certain that soldiers didn't go wandering around the palace as they pleased.

They made it to the third level, one below the first offices, before the next instance in which sudden concealment was needed. This time there was a scramble and a dive between a long covered table, which Phaerin crouched underneath, trying very hard not to breathe as some dignitary took an age and a half to walk past. He listened intently before taking a cautious look beneath the fringed tablecloth, and eventually emerged with an amused whisper - "Though I was done doing that about fifteen years ago."

[pirateoftherings]

"Oh, I did it just last week. Apparently Clarence meant it when he threatened to take a cane to anyone who dared to even look at the mince pies before supper," Kjan replied offhandedly as they covered the rest of the distance between themselves and the next staircase as quickly as they dared. Off Phaerin's look, he added defensively, "He's quite agile for a man of his age and constitution! Had me nearly cornered, he did."

The table had been a perfectly logical hiding space, really. Nobody ever thought to look for a grown man hiding underneath a table simply because most would have a great deal of difficulty getting there in the first place. It just happened that Kjan, somewhat to his chagrin, had no such problem. He was at least a few inches shorter than most (a head shorter than some, such as Phaerin), and he was slightly built. It had some obvious disadvantages, but there were some advantages. Like not having to find a new hiding spot every few years, for example.

They moved silently up the stairs, pausing at the top to look for potential trouble. Fortunately, there weren't any guards about (that they could spot, at least), and so they moved on to the first important-looking office that wasn't locked. It was rather stately, with large, ornate shelves displaying large, ornate tomes that likely held a bunch of large, ornate, useless knowledge. Kjan eyed the mass of documents with an air of resignation.

"Right, then. For what, exactly, are we reconnoitering, again?"

[Meldawen]

"Information given only on a need-to-know basis," said Phaerin, grinning toothily. "State secrets...things that can be inconveniently mentioned in the wrong company at the wrong time...that kind of thing." He waved a hand vaguely. "Or, you know, interesting stuff."

A scroll tipped off the shelf to land squarely on the top of his head, sending dust motes to shower down through the air. Phaerin coughed and squinted at it. "As in, not this." He tossed it at Kjan, most of the parchment coming unrolled in the process to reveal long and distinctly meaningless strings of painstakingly recorded numbers. "Chuck it somewhere. It'll annoy whoever next comes looking for it, in a century or so."

He stuck his hands in his pockets almost nonchalantly and strolled down the next row. It was miraculous that he wasn't languishing in a dungeon at that moment, considering his somewhat impromptu method of accomplishing his means. "Don't kill yourself breathing in dust. There might not be anything here."

[pirateoftherings]

"That was singularly unhelpful," Kjan muttered as he stuck the scroll in a gap somewhere and began half-heartedly examining documents at random. "So nice to know that I might be risking my life for something completely useless, too."

Unsure of how to even begin searching, he settled for simply listing off some of the items that he found as he went. "Random columns of numbers...some pointless memorandum...more random columns of numbers...a missive confirming that someone received an important missive about a conversation that they'd had the previous week...more random columns of numbers...It's little wonder that my father hires someone to keep organize his important documents, really. Oh, and feel free to stop me when something sounds good....Another pointless memo...the autobiography of some self-important monarch from who-knows-when...undated census...tax records...."

[Meldawen]

"Tax records, please," said Phaerin, poking his head around the shelf. "And the census." He continued riffling through various papers and muttering to himself, eventually poking his head around again. "On second thought, leave the tax records unless they're recent. They're all over, we might as well only take the relevant ones."

There was a brief echo of voices and he ducked behind a column. When whoever it was had passed, Phaerin went to look out into the hall. "Pick an important dignitary's office," he said, turning back to Kjan. "We've got approximately twenty minutes before we'll have to be gone, we might as well spend it doing something worthwhile."

[pirateoftherings]

Kjan complied, tossing the requested items to Phaerin as he walked past. He considered mentioning that he still had no idea what he was looking for, or that he wasn't sure how to tell the office of an important dignitary from that of an unimportant dignitary, but ultimately decided that such facts were insignificant and settled for the most expensive-looking office he could find.

Oh joy. More shelves, he thought dryly as he selected a starting point. At least a few of these documents looked slightly more recent, being covered in only about an eighth of an inch of dust, rather than a quarter inch like the previous office. However, it all seemed just as useless. What was the the point of recording data, only to fail to give it any sort of label? The numbers on some of the papers could have been anything from a highly important record of something to the Regent's stats in the monthly poker tournaments. There was simply no telling.

After much searching (and dust inhalation), Kjan finally produced a few documents that looked semi-useful, including another tax record, a more recent census, and records of several revenue tariffs enacted in the past few years. Or at least, they seemed like they might be useful, as they were along the lines of what he'd already given Phae. Truth be told, he'd never really excelled in anything having to do with bureaucracy - probably because he'd slept through half his lessons. At any rate, they were close enough, and he wasn't interested in breathing in any more dust.

Sliding the documents into a pack that he'd brought along, he decided to head back to the office where Phaerin was still searching. Halfway down the hall, he became suddenly aware of voices coming from the staircase behind him. Upon stopping to listen more closely, he realized that not only where there voices, but shouts. Specifically, angry shouts that sounded an awful lot like orders coming from a particular effeminately-voiced officer. And footsteps.

Making for the first office as quickly as he dared, Kjan ducked inside and shut the door. "Got some documents," he announced. "Oh, and we might not have those twenty minutes after all."

[Meldawen]

Phaerin locked the door with a flick of his wrist and listened for a minute. It looked from his expression as though he were reluctantly agreeing. "Right. Time revised. Two and half minutes, and this assuming we find a relatively usable escape route." The voices came closer and he riffled speedily through the documents Kjan held. Expression disappointed, he looked up to scan the shelves. "What would you say are the chances of me grabbing a stack of papers, chosen at random, and later finding that one of them is of key and utmost importance?"

Someone rattled the handle. Phaerin sprinted toward the nearest shelf and scooped up an armful of loose parchment. "I should probably warn you, imminent life-threatening situations are about to ensue. Still carrying around that handy coil of rope I tossed you earlier?"

[pirateoftherings]

"No, I threw it away at the first given opportunity," Kjan said dryly as he tossed the coil of rope toward Phaerin. "You're just lucky that nobody asked why I had a random rope with me on patrol. Not the most common item to have when standing guard, I've heard." He glanced uneasily toward the locked door, then around the suddenly much smaller room.

"Right, then. Step two?"