Cards Reshuffled

People you don’t want to trust with covert operations: Hot-headed rangers, Harpers, loud-mouthed gnomes, evil-smiting Helmites, or megalomaniac wizards who’ll pick a fight with the first enemy guard they meet. There are times when I wonder why I even bother trying.

Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’

“Are you saying that this is where those three drones are hiding?” Jaheira asked, her voice edged with disapproval. Yet it also sounded tired, far more tired than normal, and she was leaning even more heavily on her staff than previously. Now and then she would have to stop and rest, usually pretending that she had spotted something interesting in the distance. Zaerini pretended not to have noticed the pretense. She knew the druid, and knew that right now her pride was all she had to cling to.

“Yep,” she said, peering at the grimy sign above the entrance to the inn. “Softpaws says she can smell their tracks. And I asked around a little, they were spotted going in here.” Edwin, Jan and Anomen together had created quite an impression on the people of the slums, and much amusement as well. It hadn’t been difficult to trace them to this seedy little tavern. And they’d better not have gone on a drinking spree when Jaheira’s life is in danger, that’s all I say.

“Let me go in first,” she said, as a naughty idea crept into her head. “I want to give them a little surprise.” She reached within, to the slumbering power that was entwined with her soul, and then she felt her form shift and melt, until she assumed her alternate shape of a smallish red cat. With a satisfied flick of her tail she headed into the tavern, Softpaws close by her. She had to dodge and slip between quite a few feet, but then she eventually spotted her wayward companions. They were all sitting at a table near the fireplace, with a few assorted mugs on the table in front of them. I can’t believe this. I ask them to do a little simple snooping around, and instead they sit around here? I’m starting to think Jaheira has less than three days, from the way she sounds when she breathes, we can’t waste any time.

Does that mean I won’t get my regular fifth snooze today? Softpaws said, sounding worried.

Your concern is really touching, you know that?

Snoozing is important. You wouldn’t want my fur to lose its shine, would you?

Well, you can sleep in my pack if you have to. Just try not to destroy anything.

As the shape changed bard silently crossed the floor, she positioned herself behind the chair where Edwin was sitting and listened to what the three men were saying. Well, actually it was mostly Jan talking, a complicated story about some relative of his who’d been a bounty hunter and wound up having to travel all across Kara-Tur with a convict chained to his waist, a convict who also happened to be a vampire. Edwin and Anomen only groaned quietly now and then. Finally, at the point where Jan described his relative’s fear and horror at finding out that the vampire had borrowed his toothbrush, Edwin had had enough.

“Be quiet, you sad reject from a traveling freak show! I have heard quite enough about your miserably cowardly uncle, and his vampire, and their turnip balancing act! No more! If the man had had any spine at all, he would have gutted the undead menace and stuffed it, the way I would do if the Nosferatu should ever seek to touch me with their cold….AAAAAGHHHH!”

The reason for the Red Wizard’s sudden scream was that Zaerini had suddenly leapt onto the back of his chair, and pressed her cold nose against his neck. Flailing his arms and legs about in a wild panic, he managed to topple his chair, as well as to lose control of his metal mug, which spun in a wide arc through the air and wound up in the lit fireplace. Meanwhile, Zaerini, who had the higher agility of a feline at her disposal, jumped on to the table, where she promptly changed back into her proper form and sat dangling her legs over the edge. “What’s the matter, Eddie?” she asked innocently. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack, you fool woman? (Gah, why do people seem to think it’s so very amusing to sneak up on me? Now she’s doing it too!)” Edwin was still lying on his back on the floor, but that didn’t stop his tongue from running as quickly as ever.

“Nope. Just trying to wake you up, in case you’re too drunk to remember what you were supposed to be doing.”

“Nonsense! Edwin Odesseiron is never too drunk! I am always in perfect control, the omnipotent master of my mind and body! (Which is of course the epitome of masculine perfection, as I would be happy to demonstrate on a more private occasion.)”

“Really? What about Gracie then? I thought you said that happened because you were drunk?”

“That was an exception, though I would hardly expected your limited intellect to grasp such a complex concept.”

“Limited, is it?” By now the redhead had got off the table and was hunched down on the floor, waving her finger beneath the now seated wizard’s nose. “Hardly as limited as your sense of taste, Mr Nose Ring!”

“I’ll have you know that I look superlatively and stunningly handsome in it, as I do in everything! My sense of taste is as superior as the rest of me, and a sure guide in the jungles of male fashion.”

“Yeah, the sort of guide that will tie you up in the middle of a swamp and wait for the crocodiles to eat you. The gaudier the better, right?”

“Hmpf!” Edwin said, sticking his nose in the air. “As the barbarian you are, you clearly have no appreciation for high Thayvian fashion. Kindly go back to rolling in dung with the other peasants.”

“Ha! It’s not me who always gets attacked by greedy magpies trying to tear off all the sparklies and gold thread from my clothes!”

“Unappreciative, lowbrow wench!”

“Greedy, spoilt snob!”

“Skulking stalker!”

“Vain peacock!”

“Brat!”

“Bully!”

By now the bard was leaning in even closer towards the wizard, staring directly into his dark eyes, and she was grinning widely, pleased to notice that there was a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth as well. Things would likely have progressed rapidly, had not Anomen chosen that moment to interrupt the proceedings.

“My lady!” he cried out, getting to his feet. “Step aside, and I shall chastise this villain mightily for his rudeness, and make him cry in the dust for your pardon!”

“Never mind,” Jaheira said in a very dry voice. The druid had entered the tavern by now, Minsc in tow, and she was watching the pair on the floor with a look that was a strange mixture of humor, annoyance and plain weariness. “These two have their own very unique way of communication. They are not about to kill each other.”

“Right,” Rini said, getting to her feet and dusting herself off. She was feeling a little embarrassed, she hadn’t meant to get carried away like that. “So, boys, what have you found? We have good news ourselves, we know that Ployer owns some sort of tavern in the slums, a place called The One Cup. Any of you got any idea where it is?”

Three heads shook in return. “Nope,” Jan said. “But we met this really interesting old hag who…”

“Would you look at the beautiful weather!” Anomen suddenly said in a loud and slightly desperate voice.

“Yes!” Edwin added in. “And…and the…er…beautifully…er…dirty and disgusting people, smelling like stinking offal.”

“…who reminded me of my dear old grannie’s sister, Gloria Jansen,” Jan said with a twisted grin, his eyes twinkling as he noticed the obvious discomfort of the priest and the Red Wizard. “She was a strange old lady, quite batty. In fact, she called herself ‘Bat-Gnome’ and preferred to sleep hanging by her toe-nails inside a drafty old cave. She also wore a very naturalistic bat-suit, complete with fur, large ears and real guano, and she’d shoot people with her Rabies-Crossbow. Well, not any people, only criminals. She fought crime, you see, together with her youthful sidekick, a plucky renegade and brilliant young Cowled Wizard, who hid his stunning beauty behind a pair of thick spectacles. Funny thing, as soon as he took them off his hair would turn blond, his teeth would straighten out and he’d lose ten pounds and get perfect skin. ‘Sobbin’ he was called, since he whined a lot about his hero outfit constituting of a tiny little scrap of tight leather. Auntie Gloria was very fond of younger men, you see.”

“That is quite enough!” Anomen tried.

“Alas,” Jan went on, “she died a tragic death. She was mucking the guano out of the cave one day when it landed on a passing villain, Acne Boy, most known for his hyper-intelligent mutated pimples, his secret training as a ninja zit-squeezer, and his bad temper, so common in adolescents. Don’t you agree, boys?”

Edwin and Anomen simply glowered at him.

“Anyway,” the gnome said, “Auntie Gloria managed to hit Acne Boy straight in the face with the guano, as I said, since she was ogling him rather than paying attention to her aim. Unfortunately this caused all of his pimples to erupt, and the resulting explosion completely clogged the nostril holes of Auntie’s mask, suffocating her.”

“Ewwwwww!” Rini said, sticking her tongue out.

“Yes, that’s what the poor undertaker said. A sad story, and it goes to show that you should never allow your urges to distract you too badly. Isn’t that so, boys?”

Once again the wizard and the Helmite wore identical, sullen expressions.

“I need another drink,” Edwin muttered, uttering a brief spell that made his hand coat with a shimmering blue force field. Then he simply reached into the fireplace to retrieve his mug, which curiously enough wasn’t even sooty. In fact, it looked cleaner than ever.

“What are those pretty letters down the bottom?” Minsc asked, peering over the wizard’s shoulder. “Boo cannot read them, but he likes the way they glow.”

Indeed there were letters suddenly visible down the bottom of the mug. Winding, fiery letters, spiraling around the vessel. “It’s Elvish,” Edwin nonchalantly said. “Some sort of annoying advertising. It says ‘One Cup to Rule them All, One Cup to Find Them, One Cup to Bring them All, and in the Darkness Bind them. Open 24 hours daily, for your convenience. Once you enter, you’ll never want to leave. No halflings served.”

“The One Cup?” Jaheira hissed, then had to steady herself against the table. “You…all this time…and you have been sitting here all along?”

“Hooray!” Minsc exclaimed. “It is the Evil Cup, and our good friends have found it for us, adding their names to the footnotes of heroic history! Now Minsc and Boo will wring the red wine of Truth out of the nose of evil, and serve it up with the Cherry of Justice!” Without waiting for a reply he hurried over towards the bar, brandishing his hamster in front of him like a sword.

“What does he mean ‘good friends’?” Edwin asked, sounding worried. “And what is this ‘heroism’ thing? I can’t be a hero! Have you any idea how embarrassing that is?”

“Not now!” Zaerini said, hurrying after Minsc. “Any moment now he’ll…”

“TELL US WHERE THE EVIL PLOYER MAN IS HIDING, LITTLE BARTENDER PERSON, OR MINSC WILL BE SERVING YOU SWIFT HAMSTER JUSTICE WITH A NICE CHERRY ON TOP!”

“…go berserk,” Rini sighed. She hurried over to put her hand on the large ranger’s arm, urging him to put down the bartender he was currently holding by the throat. The man was looking quite terrified, and his eyes were bulging. “Sorry,” she said with an encouraging smile. “He just gets excited now and then. We’ll go away just as soon as you tell us where Ployer is. I know he owns the place, he probably even lives here.”

The bartender pointed silently towards a door in the back of the room, his arm trembling.

“Thank you!” Zaerini politely said. Then she turned around. “Right, let’s prepare ourselves and…”

Too late. Jaheira was already staggering determinedly through the designated door, her teeth bared in anger. The fact that she was almost too weak to stand didn’t seem to bother her, but then such things never had. Before the bard had the time to stop her friend, a voice sounded from inside the back room. An oily, smugly satisfied voice. “Ah, Jaheira. I see you have dragged your sorry soon-to-be carcass here to see me. Are you here to beg? Perhaps to grovel? I don't mind. I have even cleaned my shoes.”

Ployer, the half-elf thought to herself, then hurried towards the door, swearing silently. And we’ve lost the element of surprise. Let’s hope those wizards keep their word.