After Dinner

Ratto doesn't realize she has a designated lifeguard...but she can sense Amelie's "aura of helpfulness," or whatever term you want to use. Actually, the minion would be (mildly) offended if she knew Amelie was hovering over her, because every self-respecting rat is an excellent swimmer!

She continues cleaning cutlery, since other items are too large for her to handle, while occasionally letting out a satisfied "Rats!"

Meanwhile, Rag-and-Bones lurks, and he shall answer this (to him) absurd question.

Keep this place afloat? Seriously?! He wants nothing more than to reduce this B&B to ashes. If he could get that cold-hearted witch Yazeba to shed even a single tear, it'd be worth it.

But not before he retrieved her spellbook, of course. Destroying this place before accomplishing that would foil his long-term plans. He didn't know any other spellcasters who'd learned and transcribed the Apocalypse Incantation.

Anyway, he's now angry (and yes, a bit worried) that Ratto hasn't returned from her recon. Had she been taken prisoner by those fiends? Or even killed? Rats were misunderstood creatures, always on the chopping block!

He creeps down the hallway, and slowly peers into the kitchen. Super stealthy. Nobody would ever notice him. (Delusion alert.)

At first, he can't see Ratto, because his minion is still frolicking in the suds. But then the rat climbs up onto the counter to dump more cutlery into the sink.

Was she...helping clean?!

Betrayal! Cruelty! Foulness! The laughing, trickster fates were again out to ruin him!

He rushes down the hall, now creaking like a tree bent by a hurricane. Maybe he could use that WD-41, but his mind is on other things.How could he get his revenge on all of them at once? He couldn't fight them solo, even without his bulky costume. Maybe collapse the ceiling on them...?

No, he had an even better idea: poison the water supply! That would stop their dish-cleaning (and their lives) for good!

Now he just needs to find some lethal poison, and figure out the plumbing. Is it standard stuff, with pipes, a water heater, and a buried line connected to some water distribution source?

No, it couldn't be that easy. This place was magical, built and controlled by Yazeba. It probably had a convoluted system that pumped water from the aether or somewhere....

It didn't matter! He'd figure it all out, and get his revenge!

As our erstwhile dishwashers take stock of the kitchen, they realize that the towering mountains of dirty plates that had once seemed insurmountable have now dwindled to mere foothills. Their toil is almost at an end...

Parish plucks out the last pan, dries it off and stares at it for a long moment. In the gleam of the metal, he remembers how the sun would shine off freshly polished armor and almost hear the impatient snort of horses ready to away to adventure and where the road may take them. Parish sighs and puts away the pan on the drying rack. "How many dishes left? That was the last, yes?

Yes, Parish. That was the last dish! You look at the empty sinks and feel a sense of satisfaction. But there is still one Big Question nagging at you...

"Where am I supposed to fit in?"

Rag-and-Bones is off somewhere, scheming, pouting, and skulking. It doesn't appear that he'll enact his dastardly water-poisoning plan, as the cleaning crew is now wrapping up.

Ratto will answer this question, with a confused "Rats!"

She likes Amelie's concern and gentleness...but still feels loyalty to Rag-and-Bones. The ol' skeleton was tough, sure, but sometimes you needed toughness. It was a cruel world, after all. But to be tough and callous all the time? Hmm.

Could she still be Rag's minion, while also helping these people? It didn't seem possible; it appeared Rag had already determined that they were enemies. Like Yazeba, the "heartless witch" he was always bellowing about.

So Ratto doesn't have a clear-cut answer to this question. She'll just keep meandering along, and hope everything works out. Not the most assertive plan, but she is a minion, and not used to coming up with complicated, paradigm-shifting plans.

"I thought I had found my place to fit in." Parish muses. "I traded armor for rubber gloves, my sword for a cooking pot, and cared for my people with meals instead of grand quests." Parish sighs. "But I am still a knight and I yearn for bigger things." Parish scratched at a gray spot on his hand and frowned when he realized in wasn't a stain but simply how his hands look now.

And so, each person in the kitchen felt a little more confident in their place in this world!

Of course, we mustn't forget about Rag-and-Bones! His first foray had been foiled, but I get the feeling we haven't seen the last of him around the B&B!