Cards Reshuffled

In the adventuring business, you can’t always afford to be picky. When your or your friend’s life is on the line, you may have to put up with a lot that you would otherwise prefer not to. But watching grown men squabble like little children over a favorite toy is still a bit much.

Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’

“Well, that was pretty much a waste of breath,” Zaerini muttered as she glared back across her shoulder at the Amnian Governmental Building. After a long time she had finally managed to track down a Cowled Wizard willing to talk to her, but if he knew anything about the mysterious mages who had aided with cursing Jaheira, he wasn’t telling.

“Typical wizard,” Anomen said, giving Edwin a dark look. “Wordy, uncooperative, and overly impressed with his own importance.”

“And who gave you leave to address your betters, prayer-boy?” Edwin sneered. “I get my supreme powers through my own efforts, you get yours by fawning for some god. Your highest aspiration is to get leave to fetch his slippers and beg for a pat on the head, just like the good little dog that you are. Now tell me which of us has an inflated sense of his own importance?”

Zaerini sighed. She was starting to think that maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to put Edwin and Anomen together. “Will you two stop it?” she said. “You’re bickering like an old married couple.”

That made both men start and look very uncomfortable, but it least it headed off the argument. The cleric and the wizard contented themselves with frowning at each other and as she had put herself between them she thought she’d be able to distract them. “I’m really starting to hate those Cowlies,” she mused. “Kidnapping Imoen…I’d really like to get them back for that. And then there’s that stupid law against magic. Who gave them the right to exact payment for using your own magic? Nobody, that’s who. They just took it.”

Edwin nodded. “Yes,” he said. “It is truly insufferable, those jumped-up little monkeys, unworthy even of carrying my scroll cases, having the temerity to tell me when I may use my own powers. It is my magic, and nobody has the right to ‘regulate’ it or interfere with it.” His voice turned a little distant, as if he was thinking of something, and he sounded deeply resentful. “That is completely unforgivable.”

“Oh, I couldn’t have said it better myself,” a strange voice said. The three companions turned around to see a man carefully approaching them from behind. He was a fairly ordinarily-looking fellow, with dark brown hair and a short beard, but his mage robes were more easily recognizable. Black, with green trimmings.

“You,” Rini said, putting her hand on the hilt of her sword. “You’re one of those who cursed Jaheira.”

The man simply nodded calmly. “Regrettably, yes,” he said. “But please, let us talk for a moment before we resort to open combat. My name is Terrece, and I suspected that I would find you here, trying to locate us. As it happened, I was interested in speaking with you as well.”

“Were you now?” Anomen asked. “And for what purpose? I warn you, we are well prepared for you this time, and you will not find us easy prey.”

“In fact,” Edwin added, “should you be foolhardy enough to attack, I will take particular pleasure in opening your mind to the marvels of my vastly superior magic, and I plan to do it by removing the top of your head first.”

“Come now,” Terrece said, “there is no need for violence. I am a wizard, and I am also a…businessman.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You see, the fact that the Cowled Wizards think themselves rulers of all things magical in Athkatla doesn’t necessarily make that true. Amn is a merchant nation, and here everything may be bought and sold. Including magical…services.”

“So, you’re magical assassins for hire,” Rini said, shrugging. “I’d guessed as much already. And if you have sought me out, I assume you have a reason for doing so. Let’s hear it.”

“Yes.” Terrece’s eyes were dispassionate, blank like mirrors. “When you encountered us before, we had been contracted to perform a certain…service…for your enemy, the former Baron Ployer. We have also been contracted to perform another, similar service in the near future.”

Something about the small smile on the man’s face, coupled with his calm voice, made Rini’s mind leap to an immediate conclusion. “To kill Jaheira,” she said. “And probably us as well.”

Terrece didn’t seem to have heard her. “As it happens, I am not all that fond of Mr Ployer,” he said. “I find him extremely distasteful. You will find him eventually, and we are to be there. Or perhaps we are not, depending on your ability to persuade me. That is the offer I make today.”

“You are an oath breaker then, as well as a murderer,” Anomen said, scowling at the black-robed mage. “Do you treat all your employers like this?”

“Only the ones I dislike,” Terrece said, still with that disturbing little smile.

“Utterly despicable,” Edwin said, and he looked genuinely repulsed by the other wizard. “A contract is a contract, and not to be taken so lightly. It shouldn’t be broken simply to gain you some extra money.”

“Guys…” Zaerini hissed. “You’re not helping here. He’s offering us a way to get to Ployer. You know, Ployer? The one who cursed Jaheira? So can we please save the morality discussions for later?” Then she turned to Terrece. “How much for not turning up for your little appointment with Ployer?”

The wizard made a show of thinking carefully. “For not participating in Ployer's little exercise we might charge... oh... one thousand gold pieces. This is a much lower figure than the original service cost. You may ask what guarantees you have that we will not turn on you in a likewise fashion... there is no guarantee but our dislike for Ployer.”

Careful, Softpaws warned. The black cat was sitting on Rini’s shoulder, and now her nose gently nudged the bard’s cheek. He’s not too trustworthy.

I know. It’s a gamble. But we need to cure Jaheira quickly, and this will help our chances if it works.

“Let’s make if five hundred,” Rini said. “I’d say that’s very well paid for not assassinating somebody, wouldn’t you? I’m sure you’ll enjoy taking a day off.”

Terrece smirked. “Very well,” he said. “Five hundred it is. I shall look forward to not seeing you again, young lady.”

“Just a minute. How about giving me Mr Ployer’s address? I’m very anxious to see him, you know.”

“I am sorry,” the wizard said. “We met only in public places, and he never spoke of where he lived. What we did do was to give him a sort of summoning aid, a magical item that would allow him to call us to him when our services were required, and then we were to follow that magical guidance in order to teleport to his side. It was a personalized spell though, and will not aid you.”

“How about that curse?” Edwin asked. “The one you used on the druid? What can you tell us about that?”

“Ah, it was a little work of art,” Terrece said, his eyes glittering with unconcealed pride. “It was tailor made for her, using a personal item, as I’m sure you know is the best way to go about such things. A lock of hair from her head it was. Worked like a charm, if you’ll pardon me a bad pun.”

“A lock of hair?” Rini asked, frowning. “How is that possible? We’ve only been in the city a short time, and anyway Jaheira wouldn’t exactly let you sneak up behind her and cut her hair.”

“It was not necessary to do so. The lock of hair came from an acquaintance of hers, a man by the name of ‘Belgrade’ I believe. It seemed to be a cherished possession.”

Rini stiffened as she realized what this had to mean. “You killed him?”

“It certainly looked like natural causes to me,” Terrece said. “Anyway, I can tell you one thing. Belgrade was found dead in the slums, in the eastern parts of the district. Since he did not live there, it is possible that he was searching for Mr Ployer. Perhaps he even found him.” He turned to leave, and then added a final comment. “I would advice you to hurry if you wish to save your friend’s life. It was a very good curse, one of my best, and she will not have much time. Find Ployer, and find that lock of hair. That is the only way to break the curse.”

“Well,” Zaerini said once the mage had left. “That was something, but not much.”

“You should not have trusted him,” Anomen said. “Not only a renegade mage, not only an assassin, but one who boasts about breaking his word. Most likely he will try to kill us all as he has promised to Ployer, so he can get even more money.”

“Maybe. But if he does, we’re no worse off than if I hadn’t accepted his offer, and if he does I will get the money I paid him back off his corpse.” Rini gave the squire a quick grin. “And besides, I’m good at gambling.”

“Just be careful,” Edwin said. “You will of course have my immense thaumaturgical powers and towering intellect to assist you, but don’t try anything reckless.”

“Who, me?”

“Yes, you! (Like trying to catch hold of a drop of quicksilver it is, trying to keep her from getting herself killed.)”

“Huh, you’re a fine one to talk, Mr ‘Oh, here’s a weird new magical artifact, let’s try to make it explode’.”

“Do not worry, my lady,” Anomen said, straightening his back and looking very pleased with himself. “After all, I shall also be along, and I will not find it the least bit difficult to protect you from all harm.”

Rini sighed explosively and throw her arms into the air. “Didn’t we already have this conversation? Ah, never mind. We need to get back to Jaheira and tell her the news. Then we’ll have to try to find Ployer somehow. Oh, and Eddie, it just occurred to me that I’ve got a few scrolls I’ve found. You might be interested in some of them, I want to go over them with you later.”

The Red Wizard bowed slightly, a pleased little smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “My pleasure. And I will be happy to aid you in your further studies of the arcane arts, should you wish me to do so.”

“Sure, sounds good to me! But this time, please try not to lose your temper.”

“It wasn’t me who lost my temper! (Just because she couldn’t understand the inner workings of a Fireball until the third try does not mean I am a ‘lousy teacher’. And I don’t ‘sulk’.)”

“Yes you did. And you turned my hair blue for three hours!”

“That was an accide…I mean…it served you right! And you stuffed nettles into my robes!”

Rini laughed out loud at this memory. “I know,” she said. “You sure looked funny dancing about like that. But I did help you rub on ointment afterwards, didn’t I?”

“My lady…” Anomen tried. “Should we not…RUB ON OINTMENT?”

“Yes, well, he couldn’t reach his own back, now could he?”

“Oh,” Anomen said, sounding a little more settled. “I see. It does you credit my lady, that you would be willing to aid even him without feeling revulsion at touching his oily skin.”

“She couldn’t do it to you of course,” Edwin said, sneering. “Her hands would get covered with blisters in no time, since she is allergic to pompous, blithering idiots with the manners of a feral pig and the looks to match. Tell me, are those your lips, or are you sucking on a pair of leeches in order to drain your fat tongue of its capacity for spouting garbage? (And my skin isn’t oily. It is supple, clean and silky smooth, befitting my godlike body. Unlike some people I wash, and not in stinking armor polish either.)”

“One word more out of you, and your tongue will be nailed to the wall!”

“That’s enough,” Rini growled, grasping the cleric by one arm and the wizard by the other. Despite the fact that they were both considerably taller and stronger than she was, she was able to pull them along surprisingly easily. Next time I’ll have to split those two up. Lucky Jaheira. There is no way Jan and Minsc could be this troublesome.