Cards Reshuffled

The writers of romance novels far too often seem to be suffering from the delusion that a knight in shining armor is every woman’s fondest dream. True, there are things to be said for such men. Then again, there are also things to be said of such men, usually in language not suited for children. Some of these fellows also seem very capable of evoking both reactions at once, which can be very confusing. Good thing my tastes lie elsewhere…

Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’

He wondered how long he was going to have to wait. His legs were aching from standing so long, but he would not sit down in this place if he could help it. A veritable cesspool of corruption, by Helm! Thieves and murderers everywhere, I shouldn’t wonder. Anomen Delryn carefully shifted his weight around, frowning as he felt the weight of his armor chafe at his shoulder. The armor was a decent one, but the padding didn’t seem as good as it should be. Just like me. Never quite good enough.

Anomen once more examined the dark and smoky interior of the Copper Coronet, hoping against hope that some more promising candidates would have entered during the past five seconds. Sadly, that didn’t seem to be the case. There were all the usual drunks, passed out at their tables or rapidly working their ways towards doing so, snoring or singing or making drunken passes at the scantily dressed waitresses. Abominable. Do these people have no sense of propriety at all? One of the girls noticed his eyes momentarily lingering down her ample cleavage and gave him a cheeky grin before she turned her back and moved off, swaying like a ship in full storm. Anomen felt a hot and furious blush coloring his cheeks, and he hated himself for it. Indecent wench!

From the other end of the tavern he could hear drunken laughter intermingled with pained howls. Another dog fight, no doubt. Filthy practice. I am a squire of the Order of the Radiant Heart, soon to be knighted. I should not stand about in this low and unseemly place. I should be out there, vanquishing evil, protecting the innocent. Just as soon as I find myself some virtuous companions, equally dedicated to the fight for righteousness. If there are any such people to be found amidst the lowest scum of Athkatla, that is.

So far, the prospects were bleak as far as fellow adventurers were concerned. There was a dwarf at a table near the wall, singing an incredibly bawdy song at the top of his voice between swigs from the largest mug of ale Anomen had ever seen. The fellow seemed like a hardy warrior, but hardly the sort of person a prospective knight should associate with.

Then there was that De’Arnise girl who was in here again, nagging everybody who came close to her about something or other. Probably out on some charity collection or something, while trying to ignore the advances of a particularly obnoxious elf named Salvanas, one of the regular customers. That elf has no idea of how to properly court a lady. I could teach him a thing or two, were I of a mind to do so. He probably doesn’t even know the Language of Flowers, and I suspect he has never read a single line of poetry in his life.

That was it as far as the other customers were concerned. He had been standing about in this place for six days now, and not a single noble hero had appeared to journey alongside him, accompanying him as he strove to prove himself to the Order he longed to join. Inwardly wincing, he imagined the scorn of his fellow squires if he failed to meet the challenge. Not to mention that of Sir Cadril. The knight in question really seemed to hate him, always going out of his way to mock and humiliate him. This is all his fault. In order to be accepted into the Order all would be knights had to undertake a quest or two, proving their worth. Sir Cadril had loudly expressed his doubts of Squire Anomen Delryn ever being able to fulfill a quest more demanding than a search for a privy, and said that he thought Anomen probably incapable of handling even that detail without aid. Anomen, naturally, had reacted to this.

And that is exactly what he wanted. Of course he knew about my temper. Everybody does. Ah, how could I have been so foolish?

Hot with indignation, he had immediately stated that he would be able to find a noble quest within one week, and within the most infamous den of vice and corruption in the city no less. Sir Cadril had replied that if that was so, he would eat a barrel of Old Winkin’s Finest Armor Polish, without salt, but if Anomen failed he would be put on stable duties for the next three months. Right now, six days had passed, and the squire could see a pile of horse manure looming high in his future. A few noble heroes! Surely that is not too much to ask?

Anomen tried to mentally imagine his ideal adventuring party. There should be a noble paladin of course. Virtuous and good. Except…not too fond of speaking of his own accomplishments or too arrogant. I really cannot stand arrogant people. Perhaps a regular warrior would be better, as long as it was one pure of heart, and of a dignified and mature manner. Yes, that sounds about right.

I would handle the healing of course, as well as fighting on the frontlines. Perhaps one more healer might be useful, for handling lesser injuries. Somebody properly deferential, and eager to learn.

A mage would probably be a good idea as well. Pity they are all so fond of acting so superior to everybody else. Perhaps one could be found who was extremely shy and never opened his mouth except to cast spells? That would be perfect.

A great shame that so many quests require somebody of a…less than honorable profession. Still, if I must suffer the presence of a rogue, I suppose I could, as long as it was somebody who would be inclined to obey my commands without question. Somebody polite and humble, and perhaps even capable of being converted to the worship of Helm. That would show Sir Cadril…

There should be a lady as well. A fair lady, with a sweet and mild manner, like in the stories. Somebody who would listen kindly to me, and offer gentle advice. Mayhaps she would even let me wear her favor around my arm…

Lost in his reverie, it was a few moments before Anomen noticed the fact that somebody was standing right in front of him, knocking him on his chest to create a banging noise. “Hey, metal-boy!” a melodious female voice said. “Are you hard of hearing or something? I’ve asked you to move out of the way three times now, you’re blocking the way!”

Startled, the squire looked down to see a woman glaring up at him, her hands on her hips. A half-elf, he noticed, shorter and slimmer than a human female, and with a very put-out expression on what he instantly classified as an attractive face, if currently rather pale. Verily, that is the reddest hair I have ever seen! And never have I seen the like of those eyes, golden orbs glowing like the very sun…

The woman, clearly not impressed with the dumbfounded way he was staring at her, made an impatient noise and turned to one of her companions, the largest man Anomen had ever seen, who also had a small furry wig sitting on top of his bald head. No, wigs shouldn’t move. That was…some sort of animal? “Minsc,” the woman said to the man, “this guy clearly isn’t all there. Move him out of the way, would you? Without hurting him, please.”

“Of course, little Rini!” the giant boomed. “Minsc is always happy to help!” Before he was able to say a word in protest, Anomen found himself carefully picked up, lifted, and then set down again a little to the right of his previous position. He stood there, utterly flabbergasted and humiliated, opening and closing his mouth mutely as the redhead moved past him without a single glance back in his direction. Two other women, a brunette and a blonde who both looked extremely amused followed her. He even thought he could hear the blonde snicker quietly behind her hand. The shady looking character that accompanied them was grinning openly at the flustered squire. Then there was a black cat padding silently behind them all, and he could swear the animal was sporting the same amused smirk as the rogue.

“I…I…I…” Anomen finally managed.

“Minsc understands,” the large man said in a sympathetic voice, patting Anomen on the shoulder. “He remembers what it was like after first getting his head wound. Well, at least Boo remembers, and he has told me.” He lovingly patted the furry creature sitting on his head. “Boo says that the world is probably very dis-or-enting right now, but that you should get plenty of rest and it will soon feel better. Getting a hamster might also help, thought there is only one Boo, and Minsc will not be parted from him. Boo also suggests basket weaving as a calming occupation.”

“I…I…I…”

”Just let Minsc know if you need help, and do not be sad about being simple. Minsc is simple too, but he has Boo to keep him company, and friends are what really matter. Would you like Minsc to be your friend?”

“I…I…I…”

”Minsc must go now,” the giant warrior said, sounding a little sad. “But if he can, he will be back later to help you some more. Minsc likes helping people. Bye-bye for now!” Waving cheerfully at the still stunned Anomen, he moved off, the crowd rapidly parting as they saw him approaching. It is a well-known fact that people hardly ever jostle an extremely large and armed man, particularly if he’s also packing a hamster.

“I am not simple!” Anomen said, and even he could hear how whiny he sounded. The stranger was already gone, but Anomen determinedly followed him. He would find out who these people were. Probably brigands, that redhead had looked very scruffy. Quite comely though. Still, you never knew. There might just be a noble quest to be found here, and he couldn’t afford not to take the chance, not unless he wanted to spend the next few months hip deep in horse droppings, watching Sir Cadril’s smug sneer.

For a moment the squire thought he had lost the strangers in the crowd, but then he heard a violent commotion up ahead, with several voices raised in anger. That would be them. Once he had pushed his way through to the area near the fighting pit, he caught sight of the redhead. The girl was glaring daggers at two rough looking men, both of them about twice as large as she was, and as Anomen listened she let loose a torrent of complicated insults, many of which he didn’t even comprehend. Some of them he didn’t want to comprehend.

“Call me a ‘little girl’ do you?” the redhead went on, hissing with anger, and clenching her hands into fists. “Call me a coward? Well, I can fight either of you, any time! Shouldn’t be much of a challenge, seeing as you barely have enough brain capacity to keep your bodies breathing without prompting. Only problem might be that the fact that you both have faces ugly enough to be mistaken for the rear end of a warthog with hemorrhoids might make me want to choke on my own vomit.”

“Child,” the brunette said in a stern voice, pulling at the other woman’s arm, “this is not a good time to do this sort of thing.”

“Yes it is!” The redhead never took her eyes off the two ruffians. “I want to do this. I need to do this.” She sneered at the two men in front of her. “What’s the matter, boys? Too scared to fight a ‘little girl’? You should be. Little girls fight dirty.” Accompanied by the eager cheers of the crowd she stepped into the fighting pit, followed by the two men, both of whom were grinning and nudging each other, clearly confident of their victory. Bets were already being placed.

Drawing their short swords, the two men approached, trying to circle around to attack the girl from either side. She is doomed, Anomen thought, a terrible sinking feeling in his stomach. She cannot possibly hope to prevail.

The redhead smiled pleasantly, and side-stepped the clumsy swings of her opponents. Her smile widened even further, and then she…disappeared. In her place stood a terrible monster, a snake woman with green and glittering scales all along her naked torso, with cruel yellow eyes and a forked and flickering tongue. She hissed, baring sharp fangs dripping with poison, and the two men stopped in their tracks. Having exchanged a look, they shrieked loudly and took off so quickly that their feet hardly seemed to touch the ground.

A Yuan-Ti! Anomen thought, reaching for his mace. How is it possible? She did not seem evil. Well, not very. Then the scales and fangs disappeared, and the woman resumed her normal appearance, looking extremely tired. She steadied herself against the wall as the brunette and the barbarian with the hamster rushed over, followed at a slower pace by the blonde elf and the roguish looking man.

“Do you see?” the brunette scolding, casting a healing spell on her friend. “I warned you against exerting yourself, it is too soon.”

The other woman smiled wearily. “I guess you have a point, Jaheira. Didn’t think that little display would take so much out of me.”

“It…it was an illusion, wasn’t it?” the blonde elf asked, sounding fascinated. “How…how did you do that? It…was like in the circus. With…with p-poor Uncle Quayle.”

“Never mind,” the redhead shortly said. “This is not the place to speak of such things. Anybody could be listening.” She then turned her head to see Anomen. “Speak of the ta’nari…don’t you have a home of some kind, metal-boy? Some sort of legal guardian maybe?”

Offensive as the words were, Anomen paid them no heed. She is disorderly and mercurial, and judging from the sad state of her clothes she is certainly a commoner. But she is an adventurer, and by Helm’s holy hand, she is comely. This is no coincidence, I recognize Destiny when I see it. It is meant to be. I must speak now, or forever regret holding my tongue. Is my armor bright enough? I only spent two hours on it yesterday… “Fair lady,” he said, “what brings you to this cesspool of corruption? Dark danger lurks in every corner, and virtue is e’er threatened by those who would prey on the meek and innocent. Fortune smiles upon our meeting though, for I am Anomen, Warrior Priest of Helm, and a force dedicated to serving justice and righteousness. Should you desire to walk the path of virtue, my virtuous and strong arm will be lent to your protection.” Good, that’s a good start. It shows politeness, a serious mind, and a willingness to be chivalrous and protective. Perhaps too many ‘virtue’? No. You can’t insert too many ‘virtue’, that is how true paladins talk.

It was therefore with some surprise that he saw the redhead roll her eyes skyward. “Why me?” she asked.