Parrant spat a curse out at the stone floor as he picked himself up from his fall. Traps were an unavoidable part of creeping through lairs, but he always hated when he failed to find one. Some were so crafty that even with his full attention, he would never spot them. His party was either in the same predicament or worse, so he dusted himself off and took stock of his surroundings.

He stood in a long stone hallway with very little light. He had enough light to see by, but he found no discernible source for it. Behind him was a nebulous cloud. He moved toward it thinking it was the way he had come. A wall of force shimmered up between him and the cloud before he got there, and he frowned. “Of course it is not that easy,” he said.

The sound of his voice echoed down the hall, but when it returned to his ears, the words were different. “Hail there traveler,” came the words from the other direction.

Parrant whirled around, but the gentleness of the greeting stilled him from reaching for a weapon. He found a copy of himself staring back at him, smiling. Such events were not unheard of, but rarely was it so calm. He nodded to his mimic and said, “Well, hello there. You are looking good. Have you been working out?”

The mirror laughed and said, “No, but you are looking good as well.”

Parrant asked, “Well, you obviously inherited my sense of humor as well. Are you in here looking for the cure for the dragon?”

“Why yes, I am. Have you had any luck?”

Parrant shook his head negatively and said, “Well, I’ve checked over here.” He gestured at the nebulous cloud without looking back at it. He asked, “How about you double check over here, and I check over there?” He pointed past the copy.

“I am afraid I cannot do that.”

“Why not?”

“I am not allowed to let you past.”

Parrant smiled at himself, in an eerily literal fashion, and reached back for a pouch firmly held against the small of his back and said, “Well then, perhaps you have met my friend, Mister Plat?” He withdrew a platinum coin and held it up for the mirror to see.

The copy tilted his head curiously then smirked and said, “Well, I’ll be, I think you are right, I have met him before. I should like to meet him again.” The fake elf held out a hand to receive the coin.

Parrant handed over the coin, and in the process, both elves touched hands. A bright light flared from the mimic, then faded along with the body into wisps of smoke that dissipated soon after.

Parrant looked around for a few moments, then looked at the coin. He glanced back to where the other elf had been. After another second of thought, Parrant dropped the coin for his ex-self and headed off down the hall to freedom. The mirror copy had earned his pay, and Parrant had long since learned that when opportunity is knocking, the price is best paid quickly.