Barteriyud swiped angrily at the dobul makeup on his face as the wyvern made its last warning pass over the clearing. It angled for the wind barge. The trolls on the main deck scrambled back to their duties. Barteriyud was hardly paying attention, and surely he hardly cared. He hated the woods and the odd green creatures greatly.
He was assumed the real Barteriyud hadn't minded them much. But the creature, riding the wyvern with only a predisposition toward regality to keep him in character, was simply a doppelganger and an angry one at that. The others of the doppler-clique obviously hated him. Of course they did, to send him into this mess.
And what of the Oracle? The pseudo-Barteriyud shook his head as if it would clear his mind of any forthcoming thought that might speak ill of his l
