Cards Reshuffled

Strangely enough, no matter how powerful you get, there always seems to be a large number of people around who insist on you running all over the map to fetch them some item, and then send you on to another person, who also wants you to fetch things for them before they will even consider speaking to you. Sometimes I almost wish I were evil enough to simply kill them all and steal whatever I need. At least I would save my shoes from wearing out so quickly.

Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'

“Get out of the way!” Imoen screamed at the top of her voice. “To the sides, NOW!”

Zaerini didn’t have the time to think, she simply jumped out of the way of the charging golems, towards Imoen, vaguely aware of Jaheira and Minsc dodging in the other direction. The golems were strong and fast, and they were coming towards the adventurers at a high speed. Such a high speed, in fact, that they didn’t have the time to stop. They went straight past them, across the threshold of the dusty bedchamber, the room of Irenicus’ lost love.

CRASH!

The sound of breaking pottery was almost deafening, and then there was silence. Deep, deep silence. Finally, Rini gathered her courage enough to peek around the corner. An enormous anvil had dropped through a hatch in the roof, neatly smashing the two golems to pieces. The largest bits left were about the size of her thumbnail, apart from a solitary clay finger that stood upright in the middle of the heap of shards and swirling dust, giving her a rather offensive salute. “What…” she said. “How…”

“I spotted another trap,” Imoen explained. “One of those pressure plate things, you know?”

Rini didn’t know, but she was perfectly happy to take her friend’s word for it. “A trap…”

“Uh huh. Only, I didn’t have time to warn you, but I figured the golems wouldn’t spot it. Neat, wasn’t it?” The thief gave her friend a small grin, and for a moment she almost seemed like her own self. “Wish Adahn could have seen that one, I bet he’d have been impressed with me.”

The bard looked at the pile of shards again. “Well, I certainly was.” She playfully tousled her friend’s dirty hair. “Great going, Immy, that was really clever of you. You probably saved our lives.”

Imoen’s blue eyes were practically glowing with pride. “Gee…I did, didn’t I?”

Jaheira nodded. “In our present condition, a battle with those creatures would have been extremely dangerous. Well done.”

Minsc sheathed his sword again, and then kicked at the pottery shards, looking confused. “Minsc doesn’t understand. Why would the Evil One smash his own wicked clay men? Does he have that many? It is bad to smash your own friends to tiny bits, that should be saved for your foes.”

“I don’t think he has any friends exactly,” Zaerini said, scratching at her itching scalp. She really wanted to get her hair clean, its filthy condition was really painful, as was the foul smell she didn’t doubt was coming from her mouth. “Just tools. Immy, are there more traps here?”

Imoen was already prowling slowly around the room, her eyes carefully scanning for the tiny danger signs that only she would be able to see. Good, Rini thought. If she can do something, it will help her not to think about the bad stuff for a while. I hope.

“Oh, here’s one…” Imoen was murmuring under her breath. “And another, on this chest. And another. Geez, talk about paranoia…I wonder…”

Jaheira watched her, her mouth tight with concern. “Just be careful, child. Remember that you are not fully healed yet.”

“Hey, I can do this! I’ll just…” And then Imoen waved her arm just a little bit too hastily, and a small burst of flame almost took her eyebrows off. “That is…I’ll just go slowly. Very slowly and carefully.”

The bedroom turned out to hold a few treasures. Some spell scrolls, a couple of healing potions, a carefully pressed dried flower that was left behind, and a strange oblong metal object that Rini pocketed, just in case. No acorns though, which was a bit of a disappointment. I just hope they’re not buried in the garbage heap, she thought. I don’t want to dig through all of that.

Having rested for a short while in the cave of the dryads, the adventurers pressed on, retracing their steps past Irenicus’ ruined bedroom, the garbage heap, and the library. After a brief encounter with a group of Duergar, the dwarves native to the subterranean realm of the Underdark, they came across something very interesting. A magical portal, a possible means of escape.

“Child, are you certain?” Jaheira asked. “We have no way of knowing what is on the other side. The dryads may.”

“I know,” Zaerini said, her golden eyes alight with frustration. “But they won’t tell, not unless we find their stupid acorns. And we can’t run all over this place searching for them with no idea where to look. He…he could return at any moment. I think we have to take the risk.”

“Minsc agrees!” the large ranger exclaimed. “Far better to charge bravely towards our foe, than to skulk about like poor hamsters, trapped in a maze.” He listened to the small squeak coming from somewhere inside his armor. “And with no cheese or nuts, Boo, just as you say.”

“I’ll go where you go,” Imoen simply said. “You know that.”

The redhaired half-elf nodded solemnly. “I know, Immy. I know.” And I hope I won’t lead you wrong. Not again. “Well. Let’s see what we find then, shall we?” She stepped through the portal before she had the time to change her mind, and immediately found herself under assault from a furious storm. Wild wind was whipping at her hair, tearing at her ragged clothes, stinging her eyes to tears. When she was finally able to catch her breath, she found herself standing on a bridge. Not a bridge across a river, or a bridge across a gorge. It was a bridge across nothing, a completely empty void of rushing air, with no ground to be seen anywhere. It was creaking and swinging in a manner that was very disconcerting, and wasn’t made better by the fact that the round wooden platform it ended in also was suspended over nothing, and suspended by nothing. In the distance she spied the swiftly spinning wings of a large windmill, and it was rumbling like thunder.

Softpaws? Her mental voice sounded rather shaken to her own ears. I don’t think we’re in Faerun anymore.

Whatever you say, kitten. So, where do we go from here?

Uh…follow the creaking old bridge I guess, and hope there are no falling anvils about.

Fortunately, there weren’t. But there were a whole swarm of those irritating mephitis, and their piping little voices were not crying out welcomes. Weak as they were, their sheer numbers made them dangerous. A Fireball took several of them out though, and Jaheria and Minsc were able to deal with the rest with no major injuries. And then, they found the genie.

The genie resembled the one they had encountered earlier. It had taken on the shape of a large man with a bare chest beneath a bright blue vest, and a large blue turban wrapped around his head. The dark scowl on his face was perfectly understandable, given that he was halfway trapped in mist form, pouring out from inside a tapering glass bottle standing on a small table. “Who are you…” he began, and then an intrigued look crept into his dark eyes. “Ah, I see. The Master is gone, and you are on the run. How interesting. Perhaps we may help one another.”

“Help?” Rini asked. “How?” That other genie we met…he said I would meet two more of his kind. One would help me, the other threaten me. This seems promising. I hope it holds.

The genie’s face twisted with anger. “I am bound. Enslaved to this bottle, where I was trapped by some wizard, captured in my elemental plane of Air where we stand and forced to do his bidding. He uses me to guard things – and an item of yours is among them.”

“An item of mine? What is it?” I lost just about everything in the capture. Please, please let it be something that can help get us out of here.

“An item of power,” the genie said, giving her a curious look. “It has a hint of your essence about it, that is how I knew. But there is something…odd. No matter. You may have it, but only if you do me a service in return. I wish to be free.”

“We wouldn’t leave any captive behind in this place,” Imoen said. “But how can we help you? We can’t break the spell that binds you.”

“Oh, but you can!” The genie smiled a thin smile. “The bottle that binds me is a replica of the one that exists on your own Plane. Bring me the bottle, and I will give you what is yours.”

Great, Rini thought. More item-hunting. “And where do you suppose this bottle is?”

The genie shrugged. “He would keep it close to himself. Perhaps on his own person…or he may have left it with his Dryad concubines.”

“Speaking of which,” Zaerini said, her voice despondent, “and I know it must sound like a totally idiotic question, but you haven’t by any chance seen a few acorns lying about, have you?”

The genie raised his bushy eyebrows. “I have. They are one of the treasures the Master has set me to guard.”

Yes! Yesyesyes! “Er…can we have them?”

“No. The bottle first.”

Darn. Guess we can look forward to a long walk. No, make that two long walks.

One long walk later, the dryads listened attentively to Zaerini’s explanation, and conceded that they might as well let her have the bottle, since it would benefit both the genie and themselves.

Another long walk later, the genie laughed triumphantly as he broke free of the magical chains that bound him to his hated prison. “Free!” he bellowed. “Free at last! Thank you, mortal. In return, you shall have what you requested.” He tossed her three small acorns, shimmering with a soft golden light. “And here is the other thing. May it serve you well…”

The genie faded into nothingness, but on the table an item was lying. A sword. It was very large, a big two-handed one, and the hilt was ‘decorated’ with an ugly grinning skull. The blade was so sharp it almost seemed to cut the very air around it, and it shimmered with dark and malevolent light. That sword…I know that sword. Behind her, she could hear Imoen gasp with apprehension.

“Sarevok’s sword…” Zaerini whispered. “I remember…now I remember. After he fell…I brought it with me. I must have had it when we were captured. And now it has come back. To me. The genie…he said he sensed some of my essence about it. But it belonged to Sarevok…most of its power died with my brother. I wonder what it means?”

“You are nothing like Sarevok!” Imoen protested. “I know you, and that’s…that’s just wrong.”

Zaerini didn’t answer. She lifted the sword, turning it over in her hands. No Immy. You’re the one who’s wrong, I think. I remember now…I remember my brother’s presence. The connection. Where is he now, I wonder? Will I join him soon? “Minsc,” she said, her voice neutral. “You carry it. I’m not trained to fight with a blade this big. I can hardly lift it.”

“Minsc will do little Rini proud, and the sword will no longer serve Evil, but strike it down and chop it into tiny bits!”

“Yes. You do that. But first, we should probably go see the dryads…again.”

Finally, after a third long walk, one that felt eternal, the adventurers once again entered the dryads’ cave. The three dryads were naturally overjoyed at the sight of their precious acorns. “If you manage to break free,” the green-haired one said, “please take them to the Fairy Queen in the Windspear Hills. She will know how to free us.”

“The Windspear Hills?” Jaheira asked. “Are they close to this place? Do you know where we are then?”

The dryad shook her head. “No. We can sense our sisters, distantly, but we know not where we are. We don’t even know the human words for most of the places around our home. I am sorry. But we promised to help you. In the Master’s bedroom, there is a secret door, behind the bookshelf, and behind it is a portal. That is where the Master goes when he leaves this place, though we know not where it leads. I am sorry we can do no more.”

“Thanks all the same,” Zaerini said. “You did what you could, and if we can, we’ll return the favor.”

“That is all we can ask for.” The dryad smiled sadly. “Go in peace, and may the forest always watch over you.”

The portal didn’t prove that difficult to find, now that they were looking for it, and the metal rod they had found in the trapped bedroom made it flare into life, flickering with blue light.

“So,” Jaheira said. “Is it time to go, then? I admit, I am anxious to get out of this place, and to find Khalid.”

Rini nodded. “Yes. Freedom or trap, this is the only way.” She drew her sword. “And if it is a trap, I at least intend to go down fighting.” As my brother did. Just like my brother did…