Blending with the misfits

Although I knew it would be a long and arduous journey, I truly didn't know what I'd gotten myself into. Under normal circumstances I would have simply had my dragon fly me there, but unfortunately for my quest to be successful I had to try be less inconspicuous than I usually am. The only pleasant part of the journey before arriving was in the thundercarriage with my friend, Timju.

He spent most of the trip sitting behind the wheel "reminding" me of "past mistakes" during "similiar circumstances", my "mistakes" apparently, and warning me not to "repeat" them. Not recognizing a single scenario described, I took it as the jest it had to be, and laughed. Unfortunately, as time wore on, the stories becoming more and more inaccurate, I noticed I was the only one laughing. In fact, to all outwardly appearances, Timju seemed to actually believe the stories to be true. 'He's got a wild imagination to be sure, that one' I thought at first, but after a moment I realized it had to be evil rumours about me circulating. Small men with small minds had tried to lessen me in the eyes of my fellows before, and now, like then I would root out the instigators and summarily execute them.

Amidst all the crazytalk, he did make a good point though. After a moments blessed silence, he looked sharply at me and said, you can't just ride in on your dragon, place the entire kingdom of Perthia under arrest and demand the release of Furjo".
"Of course not" I answered. How in the seven hells had he known? "I shall travel with the misfits in one of the aircastles" I pronounced. "I'll blend in well enough, I'll be... subtle enough."
Timju looked at at me sceptically, but why shouldn't he? I'd always kept my subtlety so subtlte as to go totally unnoticed. Had I not managed to keep from my friends not only my advanced technical skills and my incredible knowledge of almost everything, but also my vast network of spies keeping me updated on the current affairs of the world?

Eager to changer the subject, I asked "What happened to Mr Feelman?"
"I don't know" he confessed. "I didn't want you to have to worry about another friend."
"What happened?"
"I went to his home and called, but he didn't answer. He was supposed to be resting an hour this afternoon, but that hour was well past and Mr Feelman isn't the kind to oversleep."
He was quite right. In all the years I have been friends with Mr Feelman, I haven't known him to oversleep or miss an appointment once, and certainly not as a result of one of his light afternoon naps. However, having enough piled on my own plate, I had to leave this for Timju to sort out.

A short time later, after a short but heartfelt goodbye, I walked into the huge complex that was the city of the Flightmasters'. People were milling around everywhere, few seeming to know where they were heading. Being a head taller than the idiots scurrying around me, I quickly spotted a desk below a sign saying "Perthia", and shouldered my way towards it. There I received directions and a token with which to board the flyingmachine. Turning to march away I felt an unwelcome hand on my shoulder.
"You're going to have to leave that with me" the man from the desk said, pointing at the battle-chest. Deciding he'd rather I left him alive I simply brushed the hand away and went to the marketplace to stock up on some necessities. When paying a lady for said necessities, I accidently dropped my credentials AND left her with my boardingtoken. Uncharacteristic indeed.

Luckily, the lady called out to me and returned the token before I started walking towards the "gate". Not remembering anything of the directions I'd gotten, I trusted my finely honed instincts to guide me and boarded the sorcerous aircastle with not a moment to spare. Unfortunately for me, the so called "plane" was every bit as disgusting as I'd imagined. With a large amount of people crammed into a small area, it made for a wholly unpleasant experience. However, I did not realize the worst of it until halfway to Perthia. I had inadvertently seated myself amongst the... families. Hours of toddlers screaming and their miscreant parents doing nothing about it finally did it for me. To keep from grabbing a wailing two-something-year-old by the ankles, wielding him like a mace, and beating his entire family to death with him, I grabbed the chair in front of me and squeezed.
And squeezed.
Knuckles turning white and my jaw snapping with a loud crack from clenching, I crossed my eyes in pain. Still not daring to let go of the chair, I had to let some drool run down my now slack jaw. Just then, a beautiful uniformed woman approached, I managed to focus one of my eyes on her and a lop-sided grin split my face in half. I was shocked when she instead of being awed by my brilliance, shook her head sadly and handed me a sheet of paper and some coloured ink. "'Ere you go, love" she said, and patted my head before moving on, leaving me utterly confused.

I was about to throw the papersheet away, when I recognized the intricate pattern drawn in black lines on it. I'd seen it's kind before, it was a cipher. All I had to do was color the different areas in the pattern and the hidden message within should be apparent. It wasn't, and after hours of trying I had to surrender and fell fast asleep.