Cards Reshuffled

I can’t really imagine ever wanting to be a part of a large organization of any kind. I don’t think that’s very strange either, considering that I’ve met several of the people leading large organizations. I wouldn’t trust those to make me coffee, much less order me about.

Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’

“Wow…” Zaerini said as she stared down the stairs leading down towards the tombs. “That was close.” Below her, several statues still shuffled around, vainly trying to climb up the narrow and steep steps. A couple had already fallen, shattering into thousands of pieces of pottery.

“Too close,” Jaheira frowned. “At least we all made it out alive.”

“And with the Nether Scroll too,” Edwin said, giving his treasure a loving look. He hadn’t been able to resist taking it out of his scroll-case once again, so that he could reassure himself that it was really real.

“That thing is clearly evil,” Anomen said, giving the wizard a disapproving look. “I can sense if from here.”

“Who cares? It is incredibly powerful, and it is mine, all mine, and it will make me even more immensely powerful than before, while you remain behind, eating your own fleas.”

“Take care wizard, or I shall put you in your place once and for all!”

“I know my place, and it is on the top, with you sniveling at the base of my throne. (Yes…a throne. That sounds about right. Something really fearsome, with skulls on. And statues of demons, I think.)”

“Put a cork in it, the two o’ ye!” Korgan bellowed. “While ye stand around yappin’, Shagbag and me other former crew be getting’ away with the book o’ Kaza! They’ve gone to sell it to Pimlico already, I wager.”

“Right,” Rini said, nodding. “Lead the way then, and we’ll see if we can catch up with them.”

The party set out through the narrow and dusty streets of Athkatla, heading north. Apparently Pimlico lived in the Temple District, were most of the major gods of Faerun had places of worship. However, they hadn’t come very far before they came upon what seemed to be a robbery. A man was lying bleeding on the ground, looking seriously wounded, and a few other people were standing around him, with one of them rifling through his pockets. “Get out of here!” one of the thugs snarled as he saw the approaching adventurers. “This is none of your business!”

“Squashing Evil is our business!” Minsc declared, blissfully unaware of Edwin making a circling motion with his finger next to his temple. “Evil may try to sneakily pour salt into the sweet milk of humanity, but Minsc and Boo are ready to CHOP OFF THE HAND HOLDING THE SHAKER! RRRRAARRRRGHHHH!” With that, he charged into battle, the Sword of Chaos swinging wildly about.

“For the Order!” Anomen cried out, following suit, and chanted a spell that let him draw strength from his god.

Rini sighed. It seemed there was going to be no avoiding this particular battle. Not that she exactly approved of beating people half to death in order to steal their money, there were less violent ways, but she was also extremely tired and knew that the same went for her friends. Having no spells available, she used her bow to keep the enemy mage distracted, and was pleased to see one of her arrows hit the woman neatly in the throat. Nice. Imoen would have liked that.

Jaheira and Korgan faced a group of three assailants, and the looks on their faces when the druid shapeshifted into a large brown bear were really priceless. Not quite as priceless as the looks on their faces when Jaheira tore one of their faces off though, while Korgan inserted his axe into the belly of the other one. The man’s shrieks were terrible, but ended abruptly as Edwin and Jan pelted him with a few Magic Missiles each.

Shortly, Zaerini approached the wounded man on the ground, her blood still rushing wildly as it always did after a battle. This time she and her friends had suffered no major wounds, which was good, seeing that Jaheira and Anomen were clear out of healing spells. That also meant that the wounded man was in great trouble of course. He didn’t really look good at all, his face was gray, and his breathing labored. “Help…” he moaned. “Help me…please…”

“We’ll try,” the half-elf said. “How badly are you wounded?”

“It…is not so much my wounds. It is poison…poison in my blood. My name…is Renfeld. I beg of you, take me too my friends…they will heal me. Not far from here…”

“I can try to heal you myself,” Zaerini suggested. While she wasn’t a healer as such, the Bhaaltaint still allowed her to cure poison, and now she reached out towards Renfeld, her mind searching for the taint in his body. After a few moments she was forced to give up however. This poison was too strong for her skills. “Right,” she said. “That didn’t work. Where are these friends of yours then? We’ll take you to them.”

Renfeld nodded gratefully. “A large orange building…in the south west of the Docks District, near the…near the water. Please…I do not have long to live…please take me there! My friends…will be able to heal me.”

Minsc and Jaheira were pleased with this course of action, Korgan less so, but Rini told him that they would go fetch his book just as soon as Renfeld was taken care of. Anomen said that he thought the man was probably a drunkard aiming for a free ride, but that he would follow her lead. Edwin also stated that he found this entire venture an exercise in futility, but that he would be happy to study his Scroll as they walked. He then proceeded to do just that, and was soon absorbed enough that he hardly noticed where he was going. This came to an abrupt halt when he tripped over a rock and only narrowly escaped winding up with his face in the mud. After that, he thought it best to keep an eye on the road. As for Jan, his contribution was that he hoped there would be a reward for this good deed, preferably a turnip-related one.

Following Renfeld’s directions, the adventurers headed for the docks. It didn’t take them too long to find the house they wanted. Rini had noticed it before, when they were running errands for the Shadow Thieves. A massive old orange monster of a mansion it was, surrounded by a high wall, and with windows that somehow seemed to glare disapprovingly of everybody passing by. She found it incredibly ugly. There was a man standing on guard outside, and as he noticed the by now unconscious Renfeld he looked quite agitated. “Is…is that Renfeld?” he asked. “What has happened to him?”

Jaheira gave the man a long look, as if there was something else she wanted to say, but then she shook her head briefly, as if she had thought better of it. “He stated that he had been poisoned,” she said. “He wished us to bring him here for healing.”

“Yes…yes, of course!” the man said. “Wait here, I will be right back.” Taking the wounded man inside, he shut the door behind him.

“Jaheira?” Zaerini asked. “Did you know that man?”

“I have never seen him before,” the druid said in her normal clipped voice. There was something though…something that didn’t feel quite right.

You didn’t notice it, kitten? Softpaws asked. The black cat was sitting on top of an old barrel, staring intently at a fly circling above her nose.

See what? The fly?

No, kitten. The shiny thing that the man was wearing on his collar. The druid noticed it too.

Shiny thing? What kind of shiny thing?

The cat suddenly snapped, swallowing the fly whole, then licked her mouth. A pin. It looked like a harp.

A harp. Zaerini frowned a little, watching Jaheira. Harpers? I suppose it could be. Jaheira has always been secretive where the Harpers are concerned. Eventually the doorman emerged again, thanking her for rescuing Renfeld, and handing over some money as a reward. She pocketed it, fully intent on questioning Jaheira later. But for now, there was the book of Kaza to consider. So deep in thought was she that she didn’t notice the figure lurking in the dark alleyway she was passing by until it darted forward to tug at her sleeve.

“You there! Unwashed one! I would have words with you.”

Zaerini startled at the sight of a grotesquely tattooed face peering nervously at her from beneath a mop of tangled brown hair. The eyes belonging to the face were wide and frantic, and glittered feverishly. The person who had accosted her also had a strange way of suddenly staring into empty air and giggling, or making other odd noises. He was wearing a black and gold mage robe, and it hung a little too loosely on his skinny frame, as if he hadn’t been eating properly lately. “Xzar?” She heard how incredulous she sounded, and berated herself for it. It wasn’t as if you could easily mistake the insane wizard for anybody else. She looked deeper into the alley. That’s odd. Where’s Montaron? She had never seen Xzar without the murderous little halfling around. And where’s…

“Urrrrrrghhhh!” The cheerful moan came from what she had first taken for part of a tall garbage heap. Now it moved, and revealed itself to be a very large and very rotting zombie. Abduh. Lovely. Still, she had to admit that her old childhood antagonist was much more pleasant since Xzar had reanimated him. I guess death becomes him.

“My lady?” Anomen asked, sounding horrified. “Do you…do you know this…this person? And that…thing?”

“Well…yes,” Rini admitted. “We’ve run into each other a few times. And Abduh and I go way back.” The zombie waved bashfully at the adventurers, then paused to pick one of his fingers up off the ground.

“So,” Edwin said, “it has been quite some time, Necromancer. Where is that annoying little halfling companion of yours? Did he finally come to his senses and decide to take up with somebody sane? Or did you have a fit and mistake him for a dragon-footed rabbit and wipe him out? (The man is utterly mad. A complete lunatic. But he does certainly have a sound judgment when it comes to pets. Not that I want an actual zombie myself, they are a bit too bulky for travel, but perhaps a small imp…or a Hell Hound. A big black one with red eyes, one that breathes flames. Yes, that would be just perfect…a suitably terrifying and intimidating familiar for a wizard of my stature.)”

“Nooooo!” Xzar wailed, clinging to Abduh as he buried his face against the zombie’s shoulder. “The…the rabbits! I think they may have been working together, all of them! And they took poor Monty. They’ve taken him, and I can’t find him. I’ve looked everywhere. Under the bed, on top of my head, in the land of the goblins, even in the realm of Missing Socks! But I can’t find him.”

“Urrrrghhh…” Abduh sadly commented, patting the wizard on the back.

“I know, Abduh. You miss Monty too, and you’re being a very good boy.” As Xzar raised his head he seemed more collected, and Rini tried not to think about the fact that there were now small zombie bits clinging to his face. Evidently the hot weather was making Abduh a little more runny than usual. “I try to keep together,” Xzar said, and now he voice was composed, almost calm, but with a frail and brittle edge. “I have to, since Monty isn’t here to do it for me, and it works most of the time, but…but it hurts. Will you help me find him? I will reward you if you do, and Abduh may even give you a hug.”

“Urrrrghhh!”

“Uh…thanks, I guess,” Rini said, hoping she didn’t sound too disgusted. “Find Montaron? I suppose it depends on where you lost him? Where did you last see him?”

Xzar thought about this for a moment. “It wasn’t on the moon made of green cheese…I don’t think he was there. But he was there when I got a visit from that strange duck in the suit. I think…he went into the House of Pain!”

“The house of what?” Jaheira asked.

“Clearly the home of some barmy barber,” Jan said. “Have you ever noticed that no matter what haircut you say you want, the only three possible outcomes is to come out looking like a poodle, a parrot or a wet cat? Quite painful.”

Hey! Softpaws sounded quite outraged.

Don’t mind him. He’s just being Jan.

There is nothing funny about a wet cat, so there. And I may just do something nasty in his boots to remind him.

“I cut my hair myself,” Anomen proudly stated, stroking his brown curls and then moving on to primp his beard.

“That explains why you look like a mentally ill gorilla,” Edwin remarked, shooting the cleric a poisonous look. “Those ears are big enough that you should be able to fly if you waved them about. I suggest you give it a try as soon as possible, preferably by leaping off a tall building.” Then he noticed the sharp looks that both Zaerini and Jaheira were giving him, and looked a little flustered. “Er…of course some people have ears that are larger than the human variety, yet stylish. Very much so. (Especially the way her ears form those pretty little points, perfect for nibbling…) Anyway, I keep my hair long and luxurious, so as to grant the people fortunate enough to gaze upon my divine countenance maximum pleasure. (Apart from that time when I tried shaving, but that is really beside the point.)”

“Yer both ravin’ ugly and way too tall!” Korgan said with a wicked grin. “Call those soddin’ little rugs beards? I had a better beard in me mother’s belly, an’ the wenches love it! Ye two are nothin’ but mewlin’ infants when it comes to beards.”

“Who are you calling an infant, you foul little bandit?” Anomen demanded, reaching for his mace.

At the same time Edwin piped up, his eyes dark with rage. “As for beards, dwarf, yours reminds me more of the collected leavings of a century-old bathtub drain than of anything belonging on a living creature.”

“HAR!” Korgan laughed. “That be some fine spunk ye be showin’ thar, lads. I may not have to kill ye two after all…” The cleric and the wizard started a little, then gave each other a look of mutual disgust.

“So, Xzar,” Zaerini rapidly went on, “about this House of Pain…where is it? Do you know?”

“Oh yes!” the necromancer nodded. “Oh yes. It’s right over there, the ugly orange one that hurts to look at.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “And they are in there, so they are. I still think they’re conspiring with the rabbits.”

“Who is?”

Xzar’s face twisted up with a disgusted grimace. “The Harpers…the meddlers, the snoops, the Servants of the Rutting Goat with a Thousand Young. They have taken Monty…they may try to turn him into one of them! A hideous, creepy thing with scales and fins.”

Jaheira’s eyes were frosty. “Harpers do not…” she started. Then she fell silent as Rini pinched her arm.

Harpers, the bard thought. Imagine that. This definitely sounds like something worth checking out.