Cards Reshuffled

If you find yourself inside an Evil Mastermind’s secret headquarters, the architecture may help you determine the level of his insanity. I’d say that trapping your own bedroom floor definitely ranks high on the Wacko Scale, as does having said bedroom directly connected to the garbage heap.

Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'

Zaerini hadn’t exactly expected a bunch of partly mutilated creatures in jars to be brilliant conversationalists, but she was rather disappointed that they had turned out to be completely insane, unable to even comprehend that she wasn’t ‘the Master’. Not that she blamed them. If I’d been shut in one of those things for who knows how long, I’d probably be pretty much insane as well.

Some of the creatures had looked human, some elven. There was one enormous rotting beast that she thought just might be a Beholder, and she was not about to try to revive that one. She hadn’t learnt much. Just incoherent ramblings about ‘The Master’, ‘The Mistress’, a bedroom, and a djinn. She had made certain not to leave any of the tormented beings alive and suffering, and her bare feet were still drenched with green fluid from the broken jars. What kind of monster would do such things to friends and servants? And why? He…he treats them like garbage. Waste matter, to be discarded.

Not being able to comprehend the reasons for her captor’s actions made them even more frightening. When I was captured that other time…when Reiltar…did what he did…I at least knew why. He wanted me to suffer. He got pleasure from that. But this one…is not that simple. He causes suffering, but I don’t think that’s a goal in itself, only a means to an end. But what is that end? He hurt me, he hurt Immy. Jaheira and Minsc are mostly unharmed. Dynaheir dead. Khalid…missing. Is there a system to the madness, I wonder? If I could understand…it might help.

Watch your feet, kitten! Softpaws warned from ahead. You must concentrate in this place.

The half-elf nodded mutely. She had already learnt that just about anything might wait around the next corner. The odd stone they had found in Rielev’s chamber had served to make yet another golem open up a door leading deeper into the dark complex, but so far that hadn’t been much of an improvement as far as surroundings went. The library they had come across had seemed promising, dark and musty as it was, but there had been monsters lurking in there as well. A swarm of screeching goblins, and yet another one of those bloody annoying mephitis. Good thing I found my spellbook…and happened to memorize a Fireball or two when we rested earlier. She would never have thought she could take such pleasure in the smell of roasted goblin.

“Child?” Jaheira asked, turning around with a worried look in her green eyes. “How are you doing?”

The bard made herself give a weak smile in return. “I’ll manage. It’s Immy I’m really worried about.” She walked closer to the druid, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I…can’t remember everything that happened to me, but I know it was bad. Really bad. But Immy…whatever he did to her changed her somehow. She’s still herself beneath the pain, but now there’s something else as well, and I don’t know what. I don’t think she does either. Help me keep an eye on her, would you? She’s trying to be brave, but I’m not sure how long she’ll manage.”

Jaheira gave her a strange look. “I shall attempt to do that. For both of you.”

What’s she talking about? It’s Immy who’s in trouble. I’m…hurting…but I’ve been hurt before. Immy hasn’t. She should never have had to go through something like this! She wouldn’t have. Not if it wasn’t for me.

“Child?” Jaheira asked, a sharp edge to her voice. “Are you certain you do not need to rest again?”

“No…we have to go on. Don’t dare…” Zaerini paused. “Phew! What is that awful smell? Smells like…crap.”

And so it was. The tunnel opened up into what could only be described as a dung heap. A large, rounded room, with a door on the other end. The problem was that between that door and the one the adventurers had entered through, lay an enormous pile of garbage. Some of it was items, broken boxes, discarded weapons and the like. The great amount was organic. Not only that, but it was the sort of organic matter that has just passed through the digestive systems of various slimy dungeon dwellers.

Imoen paled beneath her dirty pink hair. “Rini…do we have to?”

Zaerini was licking her lips in an attempt to keep her stomach under control. “I…think so. We do need to check out that door on the other side. Though I really wish there was a spell for shutting my nose off…”

Minsc shook his head. “Boo does not like this,” he said, petting the hamster that was currently trying to cover its nose with its tiny paws. “He says there is the stench of Evil about.”

Rini gave the large ranger an incredulous look. “How can he tell? I think my nose has been permanently stunned. That would have to be something really evil…”

Jaheira was clutching her hand over her nose in a gesture strangely reminiscent of Boo’s. “Natural matter,” she was murmuring. “Perfectly natural…all part of the great circle of…mnnnfff…”

Walking through the squicky substance turned out to be just about as joyful an experience as Rini had expected. Her partial elven heritage gave her a certain natural grace that helped her walk relatively lightly, but she still kept sinking down to her ankles now and then, and Imoen and Jaheira weren’t better off. As for Minsc, he was down to his thighs, and the rusty old armor he had found earlier didn’t really help. He still seemed more cheerful than any of the others though. “Not far now, friends!” he called out. “The door is close, and then on to freedom and vengeance!” Boo squeaked in agreement.

I wish things will be that easy, Rini thought. She was trying to keep up a façade, even making jokes now and then, but that was for Imoen’s sake. She had to reassure her friend if she could. She couldn’t bear to see that quiet despair in Imoen’s blue eyes. And then, just as she contemplated what she’d like to do to the person who was responsible for that despair, something grasped her ankle from inside the much. Something thick, and strong, and slimy. Something that felt very much like a tentacle. “Uh-Oh…” she just had time to say. And then she was yanked screaming through the air, towards a nightmare taken on flesh.

The large creature rose from the dung like a twisted flower, roaring and spitting. It had a massive gray body, smeared with dung, and its three stumpy legs allowed it to move surprisingly quickly. Long tentacles waved about the bloated body, grasping for more victims, as Rini found herself dangling upside-down, unpleasantly close to a large mouth in the center of the writhing mass, a mouth lined with very sharp teeth. One of the tentacles held three large eyes, and one of them almost seemed to wink at her.

Then, the creature seemed to think better of eating her directly, and slammed her into the wall instead, probably intent on softening up the meal a little. She felt all the air leave her lungs in a painful whoosh, and she would have screamed with pain, if only her lungs had currently been capable of screaming.

Vaguely, she was aware of Minsc roaring with rage as he charged the creature, and then Boo’s warning squeak as the monster swung her through the air, directly in the path of the swinging sword. AAAARRRRGHHH! The sword whistled through the air, just barely managing not to hit her neck, but she did feel a sudden coldness as it sheared part of her tangled red locks off. All right, so I did need a haircut after an indeterminate time of imprisonment and torture. But not like this! Now what’s it…nooooo!

Jaheira, who was more nimble than Minsc, was nevertheless taken by surprise when the monster swung around and aimed the caught bard in her direction. The druid cursed loudly as she fell backwards into the muck, helpless before the raging beast, and as for Zaerini, she was barely conscious enough to register the pain of Jaheira’s quarterstaff accidentally giving her a sound whack across the back. And then there was a female scream of rage, and Imoen rose from the heaps of filth like a deva on the warpath, if you can imagine a massively dirty deva with pink hair. Her eyes were blazing with blue fire, and as she raised her hand, angry red bolts of energy shot forth from it, striking the three eyes of the monster with a violent hiss.

The monster roared with pain, raising its tentacles towards its ruined eyes, and that gave Minsc the opportunity he needed to ram his sword directly into its heart. The creature fell, exhaling stinking air from both ends, and then was still. As it fell, it dropped its victim, and so it was that Rini found herself alive, and face down in waste.

Kitten? Softpaws asked. Are you awake?

Yes. And I really wish I wasn’t. Can you please get me out of here? I think my legs are still sticking out…

Once finally extricated from the dung, Zaerini made an attempt to wipe her face off, succeeding only in smearing the dirt around more. She gave the dead monster – an Otyugh, Jaheira had named it – a dark look. “Jaheria?” she plaintively asked. “You don’t happen to know any ‘Instant Bath’ spells, do you?”

The druid shook her head, trying and not succeeding in suppressing a smile. “I am afraid not, child.”

“Figures. Well, it can’t be helped. I just hope I don’t catch some terrible disease.” And right now I guess I’m really glad that he isn’t here. I would hate for him to see me like this. Not that I care as such. But he ran out on me, and if I should happen to see him again, I’d want to look positively devastating so he’d really know what he threw away. It’s hard to look devastating with monster crap all over you. Then she remembered something. “Immy? What was that you did just now? It looked like a Magic Missile spell, but it couldn’t have been, could it? You’re not trained to do magic.”

Imoen was looking at her hand as if she’d never seen it before. “I…I don’t know,” she said, her voice hesitant. “I don’t know any magic…I don’t even have a spellbook. But…I got so angry, and it was as if a window opened inside my head. I just knew how to do it.”

“Well, however you did it, you saved my life. Thanks, sis.”

Imoen returned the half-elf’s smile, looking more like herself than Rini had seen her since waking up. “Any time, sis. Now, what say we get out of here? My nostrils are screaming for mercy…”

A short while later, the adventurers passed through another dark corridor, into what was in a way the most frightening room they had seen so far. It was a beautiful bedroom, with an elegant bed standing by one wall, its curling design radiating an alien beauty. Pale green silk sheets covered it, pristine and spotless. Polished bookcases in mahogany held many tomes and scrolls, as did the small reading table, where a bowl of fruit was standing. Above the fireplace a mirror hung, reflecting the image of four tired and dirty faces that really clashed against the timeless loveliness of the room. This is his room, Zaerini thought, knowing that it was the truth without knowing how she knew. His bedroom. Have I been in here before? I don’t know. I can’t remember. I don’t think I want to remember. And Immy…what if he…

Imoen was walking the deep blue carpet as if in a daze, watching the floor. “Traps,” she said. “He keeps traps even here, in his own place.” She disarmed them one by one, still looking at the floor. “Even when you’re in bad pain, you mustn’t forget to check for traps. Remember that…” Her voice sounded distant; as if she was reciting something she had been told. “There are ways…tricks. You must be good enough that you can spot them without thinking about it, even should there be fighting going on around.” Her fingers nimbly inserted a slim metal tool in an almost invisible crack in the floor, and then twisted around until there was an audible click. Her face still held that distant, sweet expression, as if she was listening to something only she could hear. “Focus. That is the key. No external distractions. You have the aptitude. You only need practice…then you will do well.” She blinked and looked at her friends. “Something wrong?”

“No child,” Jaheria hastily said. “Nothing.”

The room held a few useful items. The Helm of Balduran, found in Baldur’s Gate what seemed like ages ago. A few spell scrolls, and an odd little statue. Zaerini remained quiet as they plundered the place, thinking about her best friend. For what he’s done to Immy, he will pay. I may not be able to kill him yet…but there must be something. And then she had an idea. “Guys,” she said, wiping her hands and face on the bedclothes as best she could. “Our captor must be one big fruitcake, don’t you think? Having his bedroom lead directly into the midden heap like this. But it does present an interesting opportunity…”

Not long after, the bedroom was a stinking ruin. Not only had the furniture been smashed up and the carpet and bedclothes slashed to pieces. The walls were liberally smeared with waste from the next room, creating an awful stench. And in the ruined bed, its severed head resting peacefully on the previously green pillows, lay the Otyugh. “Take that, you bastard,” Zaerini muttered. “It’s only a pity I couldn’t stick that thing in there while you were still asleep. But at least this should help you get the message. I will be coming for you. One day, when you least expect it. I will. And I will never let you treat me like garbage again.”