Cards Reshuffled

While I certainly have friends of many different kinds, and like and respect them for themselves, there is something to be said for meeting a true kindred spirit, somebody whose view of the world is utterly comprehensible, matches yours exactly and never baffles you in the least.

Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’

“What do you mean you don’t know?!” Zaerini shouted in the red and flustered face of an Athkatlan government official. The man was short and skinny and had neatly combed and shiny hair, as well as neat little wire framed spectacles, a neat and spotless white shirt, neat and polished shoes and a neat and worried little face. He was a person most comfortable collecting various forms from applicants, and then quietly burying them in an archive, much like a squirrel collects nuts for the approaching winter only to forget about them. He was not a person well equipped for dealing with an angry Bhaalspawn half-elf who right now was looking as if she wanted to rip his throat out.

“I…I don’t know, miss!” the official said in a haughty voice. “And may I add that this is most irregular! According to the Laws of the city, missing person reports must be filed according to form 447B, including the appendixes. They may then be deposited with the proper official, in Line 33 over there.” He pointed at a long and winding line leading up to a marble counter. It didn’t look as if it had moved over the past few days. Some of the people near the front had quietly collapsed and one even seemed to have cobwebs spun all over him. Behind the counter an elderly gray-skinned and thin-lipped woman with her hair in a neat bun sat, not moving a muscle. Her face was very stern and disapproving and she was staring mutely into the far distance.

Rini took a closer look. The woman was certainly very quiet. “Hey!” she exclaimed. “That clerk is dead!”

“Ssssssshhhh!” the official hushed her. “That’s Madam Minnykins. She’s one of our most valued employees. Don’t upset her.”

“Most valued employees? But she’s dead! She isn’t letting any of the applicants through!” Then the bard thought about what she had just said. “Oh. I see. That’s the entire point, isn’t it?”

“Exactly!” the official beamed. “Perhaps you might be suited for a career in administration after all. It’s all about keeping the rabble from interfering with the paperwork.”

“Look,” Zaerini said, trying not to lose her temper and hit the man in the face. “It’s very simple. I want to find my friend Imoen. You know? The one I’ve been telling you about over the last hour? The one who was abducted by the Cowled Wizards? Are you seriously telling me that you have no idea where they keep their prisoners?”

“Nobody but the Cowled Wizards knows that, miss,” the man huffed, wiping his spectacles. “Perhaps you ought to ask them rather than harassing honest civil servants. Oh, and you want to buy one of their licenses in case you’re thinking of practicing…magic.” He uttered the last word with a clear air of distaste. “You wouldn’t want to end up like your friend. I believe the going rate is 5000 gold pieces.”

“5000 GOLD? That’s pure robbery!”

“It is the going rate. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” The man turned and walked off, staggering under the weight of an enormous heap of pointless paperwork.

“It seems this is a dead end,” Jaheira said, shaking her head. “What now?”

Rini thought for a moment. She still felt like screaming with frustration, but that would do no good. “We had to at least try,” she said. “Now we’ve done that, and it seems it will get us nowhere. I guess all we can do is try to collect the money Bayle wanted, in any way possible.”

“A Hero is never short on glorious do-gooder work!” Minsc said, patting the half-elf on the shoulder. “Our arms will soon be overflowing with offers of magnificent deeds to do!”

“Maybe,” Zaerini said, tiredly pulling her hand through her red hair. “As long as they pay well, I suppose. Finding Immy is more important than anything else. That, and getting ourselves better equipment I guess, or we’ll stand no chance against…against Irenicus.”

“Fear not!” Anomen said. “Your noble quest rests safely in my hands, my lady.” He smiled and stroked his beard as he puffed his chest out. “Remind me to tell you all about my campaign against the…”

“Later, maybe,” Rini said. “Right now I want to go see if I can find some Cowled Wizards, and then I’ll do my best to pry Immy’s location out of them. Preferably with a crowbar. Or a dull knife. I’m sure it’s a great story but it will simply have to wait. And we still need to find ourselves another thief…” She headed off across the marble floor of the enormous and crowded government building, Jaheira and Minsc flanking her.

“But…” Anomen said, watching her disconsolately. “The Giants…”

“Oh Anomen!” Aerie said, taking the squire under the arm and smiling up at him through her eyelashes. “I’m s-sure it is a…a wonderful story. I…I so love tales of pure and n-noble knights. Perhaps you could tell me?”

“Aye, perhaps…” Anomen said, still watching the bard. “But come, we must not lag behind. Heroic deeds wait for no man.”

“If…if you’re sure…” Aerie said, inclining her head, something that kept Anomen from noticing the dark look in her eyes.

“Our leader awaits us. We must not tarry o’erlong.”

As the Avariel trailed after the squire she was feeling more murderous than she had done in a long time. Since this breakfast, actually.

Zaerini had just finished a brief and very unsatisfactory conversation with a Cowled Wizard who admitted no knowledge of Imoen’s whereabouts and confirmed that the price for a magical license was 5000 gold pieces. Forget about that, she thought. There’s no way I’m paying that much. I’ll make do in some other way. As she was about to leave the building a stranger came walking up to her, and he too was wearing the now familiar gray robes of the Cowled Wizards, complete with a deep hood to almost totally obscure his face.

“Greetings,” he said in a low voice. “I am Madeen of the Cowled Wizards. I overheard you speaking with my colleague just now, about a friend of yours who had been taken into custody?”

“What if you did?” Jaheira asked. “Do you know where to find her?”

The man shook his head. “Not me personally, no. However, my superior, Master Tolgerias might. He is one of the highest masters of our Order.”

“Really?” Rini said with a cynical smile. “And he’d tell us where to find Imoen out of the goodness of his heart, I suppose?”

“Not…quite. You see, Master Tolgerias has asked me to employ some adventurers in order to perform a certain task for him. If you were willing, perhaps he could aid you in return.”

“If it is a kind deed, then we are glad to help the sprouts of goodness grow all over by spreading the manure of heroism!” Minsc said, beaming brightly at the wizard who watched him with a mixture of fear, disgust and fascination. “But if it is an evil one, then Minsc and Boo will root out all the weeds of villainy with sword and trusty hamster teeth!” There was an affirmative squeak from within his armor.

“I…cannot speak for Master Tolgerias,” Madeen said, trying to edge away from Minsc without it being too obvious. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “You will have to ask him about the nature of the task he would have you perform. If you are interested, he will soon be home from a brief journey, and you will be able to find him in the Governmental Park at sundown three days hence, feeding the ducks in the pond. He will be wearing a pointy hat and a long beard, and if you ask him ‘Are you by any chance Elminster?’ then he will reply ‘No, Elminster’s beard has chicken bones in it.’ That is how you will know you have the right person. Good day to you.” With that he nodded briefly and slipped away into the crowd.

“This is all very suspect, my lady,” Anomen told Zaerini in a low voice. “Wizards are untrustworthy scoundrels even under the best of circumstances, you know. They look out for themselves, first and foremost.”

“Hm,” the bard said, her face darkening. “Sounds familiar. But you know, I never said I’d trust this Tolgerias person. I do want to go see him though, in case he knows something about Immy. We’ll see what he has to say, and then we’ll see what happens.”

The Government District of Athkatla was by far more pleasant than the dismal slums, and Rini couldn’t help enjoying the sight of the impressive marble buildings and all the richly dressed people scurrying here and there with stacks of papers under their arms and snooty looks of self-importance on their faces. She made a point of passing close by as many of them as she possibly could, and by the time the party entered the Government Park she had already managed to snag two purses, even if they were only moderately heavy, and one nice-looking ring that her expert eye recognized as having protective properties, namely Protection Against Pregnancy. Might as well sell that one as soon as possible, she thought, a melancholy smile on her lips. I need the money, and it’s not as if I’m going to need it anyway.

She also decided against telling her companions about their small increase in funds. Jaheira would preach, Minsc would be confused about why Heroes needed to steal, Aerie would probably be horrified and Anomen didn’t bear thinking about. Gods, how I miss Immy. At this point we’d have arranged ourselves a pick-pocketing competition and seen which one of us could have stolen the most in a set time. I bet Yoshimo would have appreciated this as well. Why did he have to double-cross me? I liked him, and I really need somebody to talk to who’s a little more on my level. Jaheira is a good friend, but sometimes she still seems to think that it’s her job to correct me. And Minsc is a great guy, but he doesn’t really appreciate subtleties or trickery. Aerie is…well, I suppose she did reveal what Yoshimo was up to, and I suppose I should be grateful, but she still gets on my nerves. And Anomen…I guess he means well. But what we really need right now is a good thief.

“Are you interested in purchasing a fine bit of merchandise, my friend?” Rini looked down at the sound of the cheerful voice emanating from somewhere around her hip-level. There was a very odd-looking gnome standing there, looking up at her with a twisted grin. He wore what seemed to be a mage-robe, one that glittered and sparkled in a hundred different colors; all of them loud, and which made him resemble a very small rainbow. This didn’t seem to be a regular wizard though, as he was hauling a cart taller than himself, loaded with various odd contraptions. None of them were quite so odd as the strange crossbow he was wearing though, a weapon that had been modified, upgraded and reinvented so many times that it could hardly be called a simple crossbow anymore. Devastating Machine of Doom seemed a better bet. Rini gave it a look and decided that she wouldn’t even know where to start loading it, or even how to pull the trigger.

“Away with you, beggar!” Anomen said in a haughty voice, making a small shooing gesture at the gnome. “And do not bother the lady again, or I shall have to report you.”

“You know,” the gnome said in a pondering voice, “that reminds me of a story I once heard. My second cousin, Twerpy Jansen, he was very fond of reporting people too. He was a member of the City Guard you see, and very proud he was to be the first gnome on the job. So poor old Twerpy kept exaggerating things, slamming little kiddies in jail for crying in the street and disturbing the peace, putting little old ladies in the stocks for holding up the traffic by walking to slowly, that sort of thing. And he carried the Laws of Amn with him everywhere he went too, and knew them all by heart. Yep, very particular about the Laws old Twerpy was.”

“I really do not think…” Jaheira began.

“So,” the gnome went on, heedless of the protest, “then one day Twerpy was patrolling as usual, looking for litterers and jaywalkers and other dangerous criminals that he could whack over the head with his Official Club with its Guard of the Month insignia. Very proud of it he was, it had a picture of a guard beating a thief to death on it. Anyway, then Twerpy suddenly runs across this wizard who was exercising his pet griffin. A very nice and well behaved griffin it was, but Twerpy saw things differently. ‘Halt in the name of the Law!’ he cried out. ‘That is an unsupervised pet, and that is a crime! You must leash him at once.’ The wizard nodded and conjured up a leash, and kept waiting for the griffin to go about its business. Twerpy wasn’t satisfied though. A very morose sort he was, I really felt for him. ‘Halt!’ he said. ‘That leash is floating around in mid air! According to the Law you must hold it in your hand.’ Snarling, the wizard grabbed hold of the leash. ‘Happy now?’ he said. ‘No,’ Twerpy said, ‘you are still breaking the Law. According to the Law you must have both hands free in order to pick up your pet’s leavings with all due Hygiene Considerations. Since you don’t, I shall have to report you.’”

“What…” Anomen said.

“And that,” the gnome continued, “was when the wizard got mad enough to turn poor Twerpy into a big fat pig, and since the griffin was very hungry that was the last we saw of Twerpy. Which goes to show how dangerous filing reports can really be for your health.” He gave Anomen a sly wink.

It took the squire a couple of moments to work his way through this, and when he did he turned quite read in the face. “You…you vile, ungodly little man! One more word out of you and there will be smiting done, so help me Helm!”

“Oh, calm down!” Zaerini said, nudging Anomen as she gave him a bright smile. “I thought it was a fun story. Relax a little.”

“But…my lady!”

“Really, you do need to relax or you’ll burst a blood vessel one of these days.” Rini turned to the gnome, feeling quite exhilarated. “So, what is it you sell? And what’s your name?”

“Ah, I’m glad you asked!” the gnome said, curtsying deeply. “Jan Jansen at your service, of the infamous Jansen Clan.” He paused. “Did I say infamous? I meant ‘famous’ of course. Part time adventurer, full time turnip salesman, and double time inventor. I like to keep busy. Besides, occasionally the markets get down and the formerly self-respecting purveyors of fine veggies are forced to prostitute their abilities in the form of adventuring.”

“B-but we really don’t need any turnips!” Aerie said, her eyes very wide as she watched the gnome. “And…and why would anybody want to sell t-turnips when they can adventure?”

“Hmpf!” Jan said. “If you insult the Power of the Turnip you are clearly lacking in moral fiber. I’ll have no more such cheek out of you missy.” Then his maniacal grin reasserted itself. “But I suppose I also have some merchandise for the less discerning customer.” He whipped up his enormous crossbow, pointing it directly at the flustered Avariel. “I've items to sell you that are especially created, by yours truly, to aid one on the dangerous path to heroism. They're known as Jan Jansen's (that's me) Flasher Master Bruiser Mate. Now pay attention, you take one o' these babies and chuck it at average Joe Orc, close your eyes real tight and WHOOSH!, he's running around in circles clutching at his eyeballs and screaming and yelling like Uncle Sven after three days on a turnip beer bender...” As he gesticulated with the crossbow there was a sudden loud bang, and a round projectile hit the screaming Aerie in the face, freezing her immobile in place. With her eyes and mouth open like that she looked very statuesque, even if it was the kind of statue normally found spewing water in the middle of a fountain. Rini couldn’t help but think that it was also an extremely vapid look.

“Hmmm…” Jan said, frowning as he turned the crossbow over in his hands. “Looks like I need to tighten the trigger a mite…” He suddenly noticed the stares the other adventurers were giving him and shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, folks. She’ll be all right in a moment.”

“Hold gnome, in the name of the Amnian Revenue and Taxation Board.” Zaerini turned around to see an armed soldier purposefully striding towards them, a gleeful look on his pinched face, which was dominated by a large wart on the side of his nose. Two other soldiers with somewhat less plumes on their helmets followed him, looking extremely bored.

Jan smacked himself across the forehead with his palm, hunching down behind Minsc. “Argh, not again. That bottom-feeding, turnip-hating, scum-sucking brigand! Nothing better to do than stop an honest business man from selling high quality illegal Flashers for a reasonable price. Here he comes, cover for me.”

“Minsc does not cower,” Minsc said. “He charges proudly and openly into battle, with his proud Boo at his side. Or down his armor, whichever works better.”

The soldier was leering openly at the gnome by now, and the wart almost seemed to be pulsating with happiness. “Jan Jansen, gnomish citizen of Amn, you have been charged with tax evasion and the illegal sale of illegal items in an illegal manner.”

“Trax old friend, you wound me!” Jan said. “Don’t you know how much respect I have for the Law? Why, I would mock your wart in public before I ever broke the Law! Speaking of which, is that a wart on your face or just something left over from the latrine duty you got last week?”

“SHUT UP!” the man screamed, getting redder and redder, even as his two subordinates snickered loudly. “That was all your fault! If you hadn’t tricked me into publicly arresting High Judge Orest…how was I supposed to know that was him in that dress and wig? It’s not as if I got told about his little preferences! And furthermore…”

Rini couldn’t contain herself any longer. She was howling with laughter, tears streaming down her face. “That…that was marvelous!” she exclaimed, pounding Jan appreciatively on the back. “Just what I needed.”

Trax gave her a lethal look. “Oh really?” he said. “And you are you, who are so easily amused? Why are you consorting with a known criminal? He tried to sell you illegal weapons didn’t he? You might as well admit it! I am an Officer of Amnish Law, I WILL NOT BE MOCKED!”

“Let’s see…” Zaerini said, tapping her lips with her finger as she made a show of thinking deeply. “My name is Zaerini Jansen, and I’m certainly not consorting with Jan, since he’s my cousin’s uncle’s grandfather’s daughter’s brother’s son.”

“But…” Trax stammered. “You…you aren’t a gnome…”

“Ah,” the half-elf said, her golden eyes glittering wickedly. “Now that is a long and complicated story, that begins when Great Grandpa Jansen happened to…”

“No! No, no, NO!” Trax screamed, shaking with horror. “Please! I give up! Anything but one of those infernal stories!” He hastily retreated, his two smirking subordinates ambling after him, and at the street corner he stopped, shaking his hand in the air. “I’ll get you next time, Jansen! NEXT TIME! BOTH OF YOU!”

“My dear adopted relative,” Jan chuckled, “I think we’re going to get along just fine. Tell me; are you by any chance in need of somebody skilled with spells and lock picks? Looks like I’d better lay low with the turnip business for a while.”

Zaerini gave her companions a look. Jaheira was shaking her head adamantly. Minsc was simply looking confused. Aerie was blissfully silent in her stunned state. And Anomen was huffing and puffing and looking as if he was about to explode at any second. Ah, who cares? At least I’ll get some laughs, and that’s exactly what I need. “My dear Jan,” she said, shaking the gnome’s hand warmly, “welcome aboard.”