Cards Reshuffled

Value those precious to you, cherish every moment you get to spend at their side, for you never know when they may be taken from you. And though sometimes they come back…more often they do not.

Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'

Zaerini stumbled slightly as she stepped through the portal, momentarily disconcerted by the jolt of the magical journey. She had to concentrate in order not to lose complete control over the contents of her stomach. Not that there was much in it. She stood there, blinking, trying to take in her surroundings. At least she hadn’t wound up in the Abyss, or at the bottom of the sea, or deep inside the Underdark. That was something. The fact that she still seemed to be stuck in the same damnable maze of a dungeon wasn’t exactly enough to make her whoop with joy however. I want to get out of here. I…I need to get out. I have to be strong, for Immy’s sake. To make her believe that everything will be all right. But I don’t know how much longer I can do that…I just need to sleep. Somewhere safe.

As she stood there, still staring into the shadows of the corridor that led away from the shimmering portal, she suddenly noticed something. Inside the shadows…a human shape, outlined in a red glow as her half-elven eyes picked up on his body heat. Then the shadows moved and stirred, and a man was stepping out of them, eyeing her warily. Adahn? Rini thought, accustomed to the rogue’s habit of sneaking up on people unexpectedly. But she immediately realized her mistake. This man was shorter than Adahn, not all that much taller than herself. His build was slender, but he seemed to be in excellent shape. Most interesting of all, his olive skin and slanted dark eyes named him a Kara-Turan, and Zaerini was instantly reminded by the other person she had met from that faraway place. Tamoko…I remember.

The stranger had his black hair tied back, and there was one more thing that did remind Rini of Adahn. Something about the way he moved, with a fluid grace. Not quite as pronounced, but still the same manner of seeming to flow along the ground rather than walk on it. He held a slim, slightly curved sword in one hand, and seemed quite capable of using it. “So there is sanity in all of this madness,” he said, in an accented voice that reminded Rini of Tamoko as much as his appearance did. Quite pleasant it sounded too. “If you are not in league with the evil that dwells in this unholy place, Yoshimo begs your assistance.”

Watch it, kitten, Softpaws warned. We don’t know anything about him.

Minsc seemed to agree, as he stuck Boo practically up Yoshimo’s nose, like he expected the hamster to fetch back the man’s most secret thought for public scrutiny. “We serve no evil mages, no sir! But Boo looks upon you with suspicion, little man. How is it you come to be here? Never have I seen Boo's whiskers quiver so!”

Hmpf, Softpaws said, glaring at the hamster. What does the rat know? And anyway, I said it first.

You’re not jealous, are you?

Ha! I would never be jealous of some stupid rat.

Hamster.

Hamster…rat…snack…what difference does it make?

Plenty, at least to Minsc. Now hush, I need to talk to the little man…I mean Yoshimo. “He has a point,” Zaerini quietly said to the Kara-Turan. “We have little reason to trust anybody in this place. If you want ‘our assistance’, I suggest you start with telling us exactly who you are and how you came here. I mean, for all I know, you could be some sort of nasty fiend sent to lure us into a trap.”

Yoshimo looked highly insulted at this remark. “I am no fiend! I am Yoshimo! You know, Yoshimo?”

Blank looks met him, but he clearly wasn’t quite ready to give up yet. “I am certain you must have heard of me. I am the Yoshimo!”

“Oh, stop this prattling, fool!” Jaheira snapped. “None of us have ever heard of you. Repeating yourself until you choke from lack of breathing is not going to change that.”

Yoshimo actually smiled at this, something that incensed the druid all the more. “Ah, a roaring lioness in this dark and gloom. An inspiration to my weary spirit, spreading soothing balm across its ragged fabric.”

That has to be the first time anybody has ever called Jaheira a soothing balm, Rini thought.

Jaheira seemed to think much the same, as she scowled darkly at Yoshimo. “Think not that this ‘lioness’ will hesitate to sink her claws into you, if you decide to attack us,” she said. “You will need more than a way with words in order to impress me. Now, go on. What are you doing here?”

Yoshimo sighed, giving Zaerini a comical look of despair. “She will insist on roaring, it seems,” he said. “Very well. If you do not know of Yoshimo, then you must be new to Amn, or at least to Athkatla.”

“Athkatla?” Jaheira asked sharply. “The City of Coin? Is that where we are?”

Yoshimo shrugged slightly. “It is where I was when I went to sleep one night. When I awoke, I was in this place, my head giving me some trouble. I can only guess that some foe or other must have seen fit to drug me. But if we are in Athkatla still, or even in Amn, that I cannot say.”

“Your profession?” Zaerini asked. “And what would that be?”

The man’s brief smile was quite infectious, and she found herself warming to him despite her determination to stay on guard. “Ah. I am what in these lands is called a hunter of bounties, and a very good one too.” He made an exaggerated gesture of dismissal. “But fear not! Yoshimo will not clap you in irons, not unless there is a bounty upon that pretty red head.”

“Well, there was one,” the bard said. “But the person who offered it is dead by now, so you wouldn’t be able to collect anyway.”

“And there you have it, you will be perfectly safe. What say you? Shall we seek our way out of this place together or not?”

Imoen hadn’t said anything yet, simply watching the other thief silently, but now she spoke. “It might be a good idea, Rini,” she said. “I’m…I’m pretty tired. I could easily miss a trap, and four eyes see more than two.”

Rini thought about, trying to make up her mind. I’m so tired…and it still hurts all over, despite Jaheira’s healing. How can I make this decision? What if I make a mistake? They trust me, I have to do this right!

Think about it, kitten, Softpaws said, from her perch on her mistress’ shoulder. What can you do with the male? And remember, you can only do your best.

But what if my best isn’t good enough? I have to get us out of here Softy, I have to.

You may still do that. But I love you just the same, you know that.

The familiar’s simple reassurance was a warm comfort against her mind, relaxing and calming. I know, Softy. Thanks.

It is true. Now, about the male. Do you plan to kill him right now?

No! Of course not!

Then you have only one choice to make. Either you take him along, or you don’t. Think about it. Think like a cat.

Zaerini nodded, her golden eyes narrowing with thought, and then she addressed Yoshimo again. “You may come,” she said. “I won’t trust you just yet, not until we’re safely out of this place. But I’d rather have you under my nose than behind my back if it’s all the same to you.”

The bounty hunter bowed briefly. “That is perfectly acceptable. I am certain you will find my skills to your liking. I can stalk and fight, I can get you into places closed to you, and clear the dangerous traps from your path, yes?” Then he smiled that infectious smile again, his dark eyes glittering. “I can dance on the head of a pin as well, should you require it, but I think such displays of skill might be best reserved for later.”

Pain and tension forgotten for a moment, Rini couldn’t help giving a brief laugh. “Yes, let’s put that one on hold a little,” she said. “But if you can help get us out of here, I might just be ecstatic enough to join you.”

When she later thought back to that day, and to the horror of it, Zaerini would remember the strange ordinariness that preceded it. Not that the place she was in was ordinary, or the least bit pleasant, but there was the comfort of hearing snatches of quite conversation about her, as she walked along, deep in her own thoughts. Minsc was trying to get Jaheira to check Boo for what he called ‘an ominous rumbling in his little hamster belly’, and the druid was steadfastly refusing, and getting more annoyed by the minute. Yoshimo and Imoen were conversing quietly, discussing traps it seemed. The group was a little larger, even though she wasn’t about to fully accept Yoshimo just yet. It almost felt like old times. Almost. But not quite. But it isn’t the same. Not the same at all, not without him. I should stop thinking about him, really I should. But…I can’t.

Her mind, her memory, they still felt hurt, shattered in places. But the memories of him, memories of before this place, they were clear. Mercifully or mercilessly so, depending on your point of view. His quips and sharp wit. He was always able to see me through the darkness, either by making me laugh or by simply being there. His voice, his perfect voice and the way he would use it like a finely tuned instrument. His face. The look in his eyes…I wonder what he saw when he looked at me? Just a diversion? I was so certain…how could I have been so wrong about him? Why can’t I stop missing him, even now? Dear gods, I can almost feel him…and he feels so close!

A terrible stench jolted the bard out of her reverie. They had been walking through a short corridor, and now it opened up into another room. Shelves lined the wall. Books and paper were scattered here and there, and there were long rows of jars with neat labels.

She took another step into the room, her nose rebelling against the stench, despite the smelly filth that was still smeared all over her. What…what is that?

But she knew. Of course she knew, how could she not? She had smelled it often enough. It was the stench of death.

Knives. There were knives hanging on the walls, sharp and glittering knives. Large, small, and all sizes in-between. And there were saws, and cruel hooks, and even what seemed to be a hammer and chisel. But most of all, there were knives.

Stronger now, the smell of death, as she approached the table in the center of the room. She was walking slowly, as if in a dream. No. Not a dream. A nightmare. One of those nightmares when you know something terrible is about to happen, but you just keep walking, powerless to stop, drawing closer and closer until it is finally upon you, and you wake up screaming. I want to wake up. Please…I just want to wake up! But she kept walking. Closer. Closer.

On the table, there was a body. As she had somehow known there would be, just like you do in the worst kind of nightmare. And right behind her, she could hear Jaheria start screaming as if her heart and soul had been rent asunder, screaming to awaken them from this living nightmare.

They did not.