Why are you special?

Walking around between ticks of the clock is strange. The only noise I hear is what I make; it is eerily silent. And seriously, liquids aren't supposed to be suspended mid-pour like that.

It is, in fact, so creepy that I end up canceling the spell and heading back to await my invitation. Which, you know, they won't know they need to send until after they sleep on it.

When I show up at the door to the inn… there's a line, and apparently the girl at the door is charging an entrance fee?  They just wave me on through but… ah.

So… Wanda's simply giving away her milk to anyone who wants it… but she's in the Loose Lady, so in order to get to her to get the milk, they have to go through the front door… and they're capitalizing on that.

…

The inn's owner was quite apologetic about the situation, and quickly put a stop to the cover charge after I calmly and rationally explained that Wanda is helping out the town as an act of charity, and I would not abide him indirectly selling what she was giving away for free: There are plenty of other options for us.  It may have helped negotiations that I gave him some health advice. He was looking quite pale after seeing me enter his office.  And… maybe I should have used the door, rather than simply pushing my way through his stone wall, leaving a me-shaped hole there.

But that may have also helped negotiations.

So I spend another night relaxing at the Loose Lady, having fun watching Wanda wind her way through many helping hands, who eagerly exercise their fingers, squeezing sustenance from the willing Wanda's wonders until their hands cramp up. Then wanda 'soothes' them, thanking them for their hard work and sucking out snacks of her own, savoring the salty secretions from men and women alike.  David keeps her comfortable, carefully stimulating her folds all night while others drain her tanks.

And not a drop of her milk goes to waste. I even quietly cast Remove Fatigue on Wanda several times - not because she's tired, but because all the benefits of eight hours of rest in an instant has a side effect of refilling her massive milk tanks. I wouldn't want anyone to go away hungry, after all. I mean, I could spam Heroes' Feast, Create Food and Water, Bountiful Banquet, or other food-producing spells: It'd be more efficient. But it wouldn't solve the actual problem.

This doesn't either, but it's entertaining.

There's still a line when morning rolls around, and a messenger in a blue and white courtier's outfit pushes through the line and hands me an envelope.

I was expecting it, but I still check it for traps and magic. It's just a standard envelope and letter.

Well, an engraved invitation, really.  A nice cream-colored paper with a dark blue ink, sealed in wax with a signet. As it's for me, I break the seal and read the invitation:

"To the champion of The Blessed Mother:

"We cordially invite you to tea at your earliest convenience at our estate. We understand there is much to discuss."

The invitation is again signed via a signet ring in ink… but the handwriting matches Lady Thatcher.

I Fabricate a reply, already sealed, and hand it back to the messenger, who nods, and runs off.

The contents?

"Dear Lady Thatcher,

"Thank you for the gracious invitation. I have news of a change in status of your grandmother, so please make sure to have both of your brothers on hand for the meeting.

"Additionally, we need to discuss the state of this city, its complete dependence on magic, the disaster that's brewing in the local dungeon, and solutions for the above.

"I plan to drop by at tea time."

It's signed with my Arcane Mark, although done in ink rather than with the actual spell.

Yeah, I'm going alone. Well, I'll have my familiar Buttercup around my neck, and I plan to dress Alfred up in illusion as a horse and ride him in.  But Wanda, Oscar, and David will maintain the milk line for a while while I'm gone.

Wanda would be fine on her own, of course, but someone needs to look scary so nobody kills themselves trying to monopolize Wanda: Two big beefy dudes with magic do the job just fine, and they're on Shapechange, and so can be as beefy looking as they like.

After all, I'm going to need to explain to the prior Life’s grandchildren that their grandmother is temporarily out of a job, and the natural question is going to be "So who sent the dreams?" And I'd rather avoid having to tell my adventuring companions that I'm currently one of the ones responsible for keeping this world spinning smoothly.

And I still don't know what happens to me when their grandmother has learned her lesson. I'll have to ask Dad at some point.

I enjoy the show for a while: Wanda lays down on a bed in the middle of the room, sucking strongly on the meat rod of one of the men who drank their fill at her chest, getting another ready with her hands, while two more work on draining her tanks, David keeps her kitty happy, and Oscar stands watch. She's in heaven, pretty much, while my spell keeps her clean so nobody feels like they're getting sloppy seconds.

I top Wanda off with a spell just prior to heading back to Thatcher Manor. This… hopefully won't take too long. I board Alfred, enjoying the feel of his fur between my legs - I really don’t need a saddle, and kind of enjoy the rubbing. I must admit I am considering a custom saddle with an extra horn… or two.  Might be a bad idea, though: Alfred's fur would get all wet and sticky.

A Persistent Veil spell dresses Alfred up in the illusion of a horse, I mount him, and off we go.

As I ride through town, the stares from everyone clue me in on something else I haven't seen here: Horses. I suppose it makes sense: There’s no grass, and the need for magical food production puts a premium on the cost of maintaining a steed, so it’s only the very wealthy who can have them. That's my guess, anyway, and I don't have any birth records for horses here in centuries.

I have no trouble getting to the manor gate, and am greeted by… Elizabeth, huh. She doesn't recognize me, of course: I never showed her my real face.  She curtsies, I hop down off of Alfred, and she frowns briefly, "No reins, bit, or bridle? I've worked with horses before, but…."

Right… I briefly ask Alfred, 《Were you a vegetarian before or anything? I need to give Elizabeth instructions.》

He sends a laugh, 《No, I enjoy my steaks, bacon, and hamburger.》

I respond to Elizabeth, "He doesn't need them. He's smarter than most people, and as long as you treat him well, he won't cause trouble. Just… he's not actually a horse, I just made him look that way to avoid panicking people. So don't try to feed him oats. He'll like meat, preferably cooked and seasoned, but likely isn't overly hungry." Because he used to be human, but has a wolf's innards.

Elizabeth looks him up and down, "But he looks just like… as you say." Yeah, she's not going to best one of my illusions easily, and Veil includes touch and scent in addition to sight. OK, yes, the sound of claws on cobblestones can give him away, and even that is only going to grant an extra save attempt, but not much else.

Alfred speaks - the Tongues spell deals with the fact that he only really knows English: "It's as the lady says. I won't start trouble."

Elizabeth's eyes go wide at that one, and she curtsies again, "I apologize. Umm… this way, please?"

She gestures, and we both follow. We drop Alfred off in some old stables that are currently being used for storage - no horses - and Elizabeth leads me inside.

Yes, I'm familiar with the layout. We pass through a big room with twin staircases leading up to a second floor, filled with tapestries depicting various scenes, people, and fights - a Great Hall - and down a side hall to small tea room, where the three half-elf grandchildren of the prior life wait calmly - two men and a woman, with the woman seemingly the eldest - a tea tray already out and steaming.

"Leave us," are the first two words out of the woman's mouth.  Elizabeth bows and leaves, closing the door behind her.

It's a nice little room; four padded chairs with arms and tall backs around a fancy table upon which rests a silver serving set.  And my divine sight is working, although my other divinations are not… which is unusual, as normally I bypass immunities. Well… they are grandchildren of a deity, I suppose.

The apparently eldest woman is Amber, she's a Druid-19, and is dressed up in a very fancy blue gown with white accents, currently wearing a crown set with sapphires and diamonds in her auburn hair.

The middle-aged man is Bartholomew, he's dressed up with… oh, wow, an actual stethoscope, first I've seen here… white clothing, gloves, and his black hair held in place under a hair net.  He's a Bard-20, and is apparently taking the role of doctor very seriously.

The seemingly youngest of the three is Chris, and is wearing a sapphire studded white and blue silk suit, with a thin gold circlet on his auburn hair. He's a Shaman-19, and clearly the heir apparent.

And all three of them are nearly three thousand years old, as expected.

I greet each in turn, and they're startled when I use their birth names.

I smile, "We need to talk."