Cards Reshuffled

People who care for and love each other should always try to share important things, I think. Like little facts about their life. Like very important, tall, dark and most probably pissed off facts about their life. Sharing things like that in advance is the sort of thing that really helps a relationship along.

Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’

As the adventurers progressed up the broad stairs to the second floor of Keep De’Arnise, Edwin was very pleased to find himself walking next to Zaerini. Watching the way that the flickering light from the torches stuck in sconces here and there on the rugged stone walls gleamed off the half-elf’s red hair made his heart beat faster, and his skin feel hot. He had to forcibly suppress several exotic images from the Book of Kaza from his conscious thoughts. One very interesting feature of the book was that the pictures would change when you looked at them long enough, portraying the person of your choice. It isn’t really the same as peeping. I wouldn’t do that. Probably. At least not if I thought she would catch me doing it. Anyway, it’s just a book.

Sure thing, boss! Insufferable piped up. The little monkey was currently sitting on Edwin’s head, pulling at his hair whenever it wanted his attention, which was constantly. Just a book, right. I’ve seen it inside your thoughts, you know. And I bet you wouldn’t mind at all to have your mother catch you reading it.

Edwin felt a cold icicle of dread slice through his stomach at that thought. Having his mother give him one of her infamous scoldings would be bad enough. But if he was really unlucky she might decide that she ought to educate him about how to ‘properly do things’. Like that time when she caught me trying to summon Concubine Constructs when I was fifteen…I still don’t think I would have been too young! Or that I was ‘greedy’. I only wanted a reasonable number of them. Four or so. I’m sure they wouldn’t have ‘worn me out’; I was always very mature for my age…

Sure you were, boss. So why don’t you display some of that maturity by saying something nice to impress the pretty cat lady? Go on, you can do it. And if you can’t think of anything, I find that ‘ook’ really tends to say it all. Can’t go wrong with ‘ook’, they just melt, yeah, yeah, yeah! Whoa, babe!

“Ook?” Edwin’s traitorous mouth said before his brain had time to cut in with a vehement protest.

“What?” Zaerini said in a surprised voice, half turning around. “Did you say something, Eddie?”

Damn. Damn, damn, damn! Monkey, I’ll turn you into a…a fingermuff for that one!

Ooops…sorry, boss.

“Er…” Edwin desperately tried. “I just said…’oh!’ Oh, this dreary old primitive edifice with its drafty walls and leaking roof is really just a barbarian cave compared to my home. You should see the Odesseiron Mansion in its full glory…the marble, the gold, the jewels, the grand sculptures, the gardens with the flowers in full bloom and fountains spurting crystalline water towards the heavens, furniture crafted by the finest of masters, enchantments everywhere to keep everything in perfect working order. Like the diamond and crystal chandelier, held magically afloat…or the conservatory with the magical harps…or the trophy room. (I still miss that stuffed tiger.)”

“I see,” Zaerini said, but she sounded rather downcast. “That all sounds very…very nice. And wealthy.”

“Oh yes,” Edwin went on, aware that something was wrong, but not exactly what it was. “And one day, one day I will show it all to you. (And I would shower her with gifts…though no jewels could compare with her eyes.)”

Deep sigh. “Right. And…and what about your parents? What are they like? Wealthy and noble too, I suppose? Powerful? Influential? Eager to see you take your proper place in society, or however it’s phrased?”

Edwin wasn’t sure exactly what the bard was getting at, but he knew that he was getting onto dangerous ground. Still, it can’t hurt to tell her a little bit. If…if everything eventually goes as it should, she needs to know anyway. “Well, Mother is a very formidable woman. Very intelligent, beautiful, a most powerful wizardess. Very…very…” Tempestuous? Dominant? Vengeful? “Very strong willed,” he finally settled on. “Hardly anybody would dare contradict her…I mean, she does tend to get things her way.”

“I see,” Zaerini said, raising an eyebrow. She didn’t look very relieved about the thought. “What about your father?”

Now, this was an even more sensitive subject. ‘He’s a gibbering imbecile’ doesn’t sound too good…of course my genes are fortunately superior, but it still might put her off. “He’s a little bit eccentric,” he said.

“What, like Nevaziah the Lich?”

“No! Not that eccentric! And he doesn’t really mean any harm, it’s just that he tends to…to get excited about things.”

“Excited.”

“Yes, and…and carried away. Just a little foible, really.” Edwin frantically tried to think of something different to say. Galen Odesseirons oddities were not something he wanted to go into at the moment. “Anyway,” he rambled on, “I never had all that much to do with him. I was more or less raised by our House Assassin, you know.”

“Your family has a private assassin?”

“Oh yes,” Edwin happily went on. “And not just anybody either,” he proudly stated. “He’d never say so himself, but I’m sure that Master Dekaras is the best assassin in all of Faerun. He’s good enough that he could slit your throat and you wouldn’t even notice until your head fell off. Or he could slip poison into your food while it was on your fork, heading for your mouth, and your first clue would be your tongue bloating to the size of your fist, choking you! Or he could place a crossbow bolt through your eye, from atop a roof, in a rainstorm at midnight, with a blindfold on!”

“And he raised you? That’s very…reassuring?”

“Absolutely.” Edwin suddenly felt a lump in his throat as fond memories of his teacher nearly overwhelmed him. “I…owe him more than I can say. He always looked out for me, he would have done anything for me. And I…” He bit the sentence off as he realized that he had been on the verge of revealing everything, so caught up had he become in his narration. I repaid him by betraying his trust. He may never forgive me that.

“Yes, Edwin?” Zaerini asked, her golden eyes wide as she bent towards him, looking up into his face. He wanted to tell her…but he didn’t dare. Not yet.

“I miss him,” he simply said, nervously fingering the amulet hanging around his throat. The faint warmth emanating from it calmed him a little. Just a little. “I miss him a great deal.”

The half-elf nodded solemnly, and then her arm sneaked around his waist, giving him a brief hug. “I can see that,” she said. “You sounded like I do about Gorion…I guess he must be really special to you, huh? I hope you’ll see him again someday soon.”

Edwin simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak, a condition partially caused by the emotional memories overwhelming him, and partially by the fact that her arm had lingered perhaps just a little longer than had been strictly necessary.

As a brighter light became visible towards the end of the corridor Jan scouted ahead, peering around the corner. “Two big trolls,” he reported as he returned. “I couldn’t get close enough to get a clear view of the whole room though, so there might be more.”

“We do not want them to be able to surround us,” Jaheira said, frowning. “The best would be if we could attract them here. The corridor is narrow enough that they would have to approach us one at a time.”

“Well, I’m sure that can be arranged if you like, Jaheira dearie,” Jan whispered, “but are you really sure you want to attract trolls? That sort of thing can be really dangerous, you know. My Grandfather’s younger brother, Tycho Jansen of Sembia, found that out by mistake.”

“Jan…”

“See, old Tycho had bought himself this goat-skin cloak that he was sure would make him cut an impressive figure with all the gnomish ladies. Nice and warm it was, very shaggy. Only problem was it still smelled like a goat too, one that has been in the sun for too long.”

“Jan.”

“And then one day he was crossing this bridge, when look and behold, this big old troll jumps up from below the bridge, determined to eat him! Trolls are particular to goat flesh, you know.”

“Jan!”

“Well, Tycho was a true Jansen, and not about to give up that easily. As the troll charged him he lowered his head, determined to butt it over the railing in true goatish tradition.”

“And did it work?” Jaheira sighed.

“Only partially. He tossed the troll off the bridge all right, but then its lawyer sued him for ‘causing corporal damage and emotional devastation’ and cleaned him of everything he owned, down to the last turnip. Those Sembians are crazy about lawsuits you know. All they left him was the goat cloak, and he spent the rest of his life performing in a circus as ‘Baaah – Half Goat, Half Gnome’. Which proves that Law is a very dangerous thing, and something that all sensible people should avoid at all costs.”

“Our definitions of sensible are clearly very different,” the druid glowered. “Now be quiet before the trolls hear us.”

“Well, I never! Just because of that I’m not telling you the part about the heartbreaking romance Tycho had with the Bearded lady. Very fine woman she was, and a most impressive beard too. You lads would have been green with envy if you’d seen her.”

Edwin found himself slowly grinding his teeth and he noticed that Anomen’s eyes were closed and that the cleric seemed to be muttering something inaudible.

“That’ll do for now,” Zaerini said. “Now, about those trolls…anybody have any ideas?”

“Actually,” Edwin slowly said, “I do.”

Trolls, as it happens, are relatively simple creatures, almost innocent in their charming ways of eating, sleeping, and mating. Of course, there is the slight detail of exactly what they like to eat, but that is simply the way of nature, much the same as humans eating, say, chicken. Possibly the chickens would classify humans as Evil Monsters if they had anything to say about it, and send out troops of especially large roosters to try to cleanse the world of the evil blight that feeds upon their flesh and on their unborn young. All in all, it probably is a good thing that chickens can’t use swords or sorcery. Except, of course, for the chickens.

As for the trolls waiting just inside the doorway, they turned around in surprise as two round, smooth and white objects came whirring through the air towards them. They looked exactly like the sort of food the trolls preferred, even if there didn’t seem to be much meat on them. Still, food shouldn’t be wasted. Salivating happily, the two trolls opened their mouths wide, prepared to catch the tasty treats within their strong jaws. They couldn’t help themselves, it was a reflex reaction, something evolved during millennia. Unfortunately, evolution only adapts very slowly to changing circumstances, and it would take the mutational capacity of teenage fashion to help any species adapt to having a Skull Trap suddenly explode in your mouth. The trolls’ final thoughts were that all in all, this meal wasn’t really worth the bother.

BOOOOOOOM!

“Oh, eeeeeew!” Nalia said. “I’ve got slimy troll bits all over me…I never thought they’d fly that far! They won’t grow back from this, will they?”

“They could,” Edwin said, “but a well-placed Fireball should soon take care of that trifling detail. I should like to be as thorough as possible.”

“That was a very clever idea,” Zaerini said admiringly. “Very clever. Great job, Eddie!”

“Ah…it was a simple matter of course, for a mage with my immense control over the powers that shape the universe, not to mention an intricate understanding of various forms of monstrous wildlife and their patterns of behavior…though you were of some help as well, casting the second spell according to my instructions…”

The half-elf’s smile had about the same effect on Edwin’s thought processes as the Skull Traps had had on the trolls’, but unlike them he didn’t care at all.