((All spells mentioned in this scene are level 5 MuIm spells that Vocis cast as non-fatiguing sponts, with the exception of Mica’s more complex ‘costume’. I’m not doing the math on that one because he can probably pull it off and this is just fluff anyway. I’m also not making all the Finesse rolls, but the lowest he can roll in a non-stress situation is 10.))
How an illusionist prepares for a masquerade ball…
A strikingly beautiful woman, young and voluptuous with dark auburn hair, examines her reflection in a silvered mirror. She is wearing a tight dress in greens and browns, giving her the appearance of a wild nymph of the woods. A frown mars her flawless face and she turns to her companion.
Vocis, this is just too much. I look like some sort of woodland goddess or something.
The magus turns from what he’s doing with a smile. Stop arguing. I assure you, this is exactly how you looked when we were married. Different dress, of course, but it is a masquerade party.
You’re mad. I never looked this good. Just look at the skin you’ve given me – not a single flaw on the face or hands. My hair has never been this perfect in my life. And my ‘girls’…
Oh, I’m quite certain I got those right.
Nonsense. And they…they even feel different!
Vocis turns to her again with a smirk. Of course they do. That spell’s going to last all night.
Amelia gives him a glare, hands on shapely hips, and says You, Master Vocis, are a wicked, wicked man.
The fairy princess standing in front of the magus pipes up. He is not! Grampa’s just a wizard. He can’t help it! You know that, Gramma. She turns to Vocis. Maybe you need to ‘stend your friendly magic to Gramma too.
Vocis turns back with a smile. No need for that, Ami. Your Gramma just doesn’t like being wrong.
Amelia gives a sniff and turns back to the mirror, muttering to herself and preening.
The door to the dressing room suddenly bangs open to admit a screaming whirlwind. A reasonably accurate replica of one of Andorra’s new journeymen, only shorter, lands in front of his sister with a very real-looking (if small) sword pointed in her face. Hah! I’m Roberto Micael Robrido…Os…trivee…… of Flambeau! I beat the evil phantom and I’m here to kill the evil princess!
The princess stamps her slippered foot and says I told you Ramon, I’m not evil! Heroes like Roberto don’t kill fairy princesses, they save them!
Faux Roberto, flummoxed by his sister’s command of logic, lowers his sword. After a moment of thought, he charges out of the room challenging the great dragon Simmun to a duel.
A blurry form appears in the doorway. I apologize Master, I’ll try to keep him out of here until you’re finished.
No harm done, Mica. Come in here and let me look at you.
The apprentice steps fully into the room, showing off her translucent appearance. It’s really quite a good job, Master. Father approves of it.
Thank him for me. Vocis looks her over with a critical eye. I’d like to get the transparency more accurate, but you’d probably end up invisible.
Amelia waves a hand. Stop being such a perfectionist. You’ve done a wonderful job on all of us. You’d best get yourself ready or we’ll be late.
I know, I know. He turns back to the princess. Now Ami, you said you wanted a different tiara? Was it gold, silver, or something else?
No Grampa, the same tiara, but with more pretties. Lots of blue. And green. Or maybe purple...