About Blood 31: Back at the Inn

31: Back at the Inn

“…and her bitterness still lives on in the blade. Her cold hatred makes the blade more lethal, and gives it… an icy touch of death.”

Xzar was sounding unusually sane as he explained what his spell and his knowledge could tell him. Viconia seemed interested in the story; Montaron looked around the road for troubles. They were on the way back to Nashkel. Viconia had healed the injuries, and Xzar had cast a cantrip that had mended Talek’s armour. He had then nagged Talek to identify the sword. It turned out to be a tough job, as Talek seemed unwilling to let go of the sword, almost jumping around of joy as he swung the enchanted blade. In the end he had permitted Xzar to cast his spell, and then had asked the sword back before the last syllable had finished echoing completely.

Xzar opened his eyes and looked around. “And that’s the tale of Varscona’s…. HEY! Where is Talek?”

Montaron and Viconia silently pointed towards a few trees that stood on a small hill a bit ahead of them. Talek was whooping in excitement as the sword cut through the wood with surgical precision.

Xzar pouted. “What? But… but my explanation…”

Montaron shrugged. “Seems he prefers the direct way of learning the power of the sword. Can’t blame him for taking off. He wants to USE the sword, not marry it.”

“Knowledge is power, thief. I say he is a fool to ignore this.” Viconia said.

Montaron smirked. “Oh, he’s a fool all right, but I’ve been keeping an eye on him. He’s getting used to the sword. His cuts are a lot more accurate than when he just got it. Ye don’t learn to use a sword by listening to old stories. At least he’s learnt that.”

They passed by him. “Hey, Montaron. Did you see that? The sword goes RIGHT through it.”

“Wish he’d learn some other things too.” Montaron softly said, then yelled. “Yes, I’ve seen it. Just like I’ve seen it the last thirty times, and just like I’ve told ye the last thirty. We ain’t passed a tree ye didn’t give a haircut.”

Talek rushed down the hill with a wide grin on his face, swiping at the air with his sword. “I love this thing. It cuts wood like a knife through a nice piece of pork. And when I’m swinging it, it’s like it’s flying towards its target itself. Man, I can’t wait to try this baby in a fight.”

Montaron rolled his eyes. “We’re just about back in civilisation. And that means no killing unless nobody notices or we can get away with it. I’d like to SLEEP in this city too.”

“Yeah, yeah… hey, maybe there’ll be another assassin!” Talek cheerfully exclaimed.

Montaron grumbled something and the party walked on. Soon after, they reached the town. The dispenser of the bounties had already gone to bed, so the party headed for the inn. When they came in, the innkeeper suddenly paled.

“Y… you… you’re back? I… I warn you... if I scream the garrison will be here within seconds.”

Talek looked at the innkeeper with a partly confused, partly amused expression. “Hello to you too, innkeeper.”

“D… don’t play dumb. I’ve heard everything. You’ve killed master Nimbul and fled town. G… get out of here or I’ll… call the guard.” The innkeeper hid behind the counter.

“You’re starting to remind me of that fat bastard Winthrop, and that’s a bad thing.” Talek scowled.

Montaron intervened. “Yer rumours forget to mention some things. For one, that Nimbul ye’re so fond off was an assassin. And we didn’t flee the town, we went out to catch some thief, all nice and legal. We’re here to get a room so we can get the bounty tomorrow.”

“And I’ve got proof!” Xzar yelled as he pulled out Prism’s head out of the bag. “Don’t worry. All the blood’s out. OUCH. Monty! You kicked me!”

“Put the head back in the bag, freakshow.” Montaron turned back to the innkeeper. “So, if ye don’t mind, we’ll just get a room and we’ll quit bothering ye, right?”

“All right.” The innkeeper looked away from the head and surveyed the rest of the party. His eyes widened as he saw Viconia for the first time. “Oh no, I’m not having that FILTH in my inn.” He said indignant as he pointed at the drow.

Viconia looked at the man with undisguised contempt. Talek quickly stepped forward up to the counter, his left hand on the counter while his right hand lingered out of sight of the innkeeper.

The man stepped back. “M… maybe she can sleep in the stables?”

Talek spoke through clenched teeth. “You go around getting all angry at me for killing that assassin trash, and now you’re calling a friend of mine filth?” Viconia raised her eyebrow at the sentence. Talek slammed his plated fist on the table. His breathing was quickening and his face was reddening in anger. “You’re starting to PISS ME OFF!” The last words were said in a hoarse, barely controlled voice.

The innkeeper had gone white as a sheet. “Y… yes sir. Of... of course the drow c... can stay. I… I’m sorry.”

“Not to me, you fat pig. To her.” He pointed at Viconia and grinned. Almost as an afterthought he added. “And to you, it’s ‘mistress de Vir.’ She’s a customer after all.”

“Lady de Vir” Viconia said, and instantly almost looked surprised she said it. She continued “For what it’s worth, I am a daughter of a Drow house.” Montaron gave her a surprised stare. Talek whistled.

“Wow… you’re nobility?” He turned to the innkeeper again. “LADY de Vir then.”

The innkeeper seemed to consider the cost to his pride, decide it was acceptable and made a bow to Viconia. “F… forgive me, Lady de Vir.”

“Hm… I wonder how much farther you can grovel, rivvil” Viconia winced and stared down as Montaron kicked her in the shins. “Hm… very well, I forgive you.”

“Right. So, let’s get you a room then, eh Viconia? And only the best room of the bloody inn will do for drow nobility.” Talek badly mimicked a noble’s drawl.

Montaron immediately protested. “What? Talek! Gold!”

Talek made a dismissive gesture at the halfling. “Eh… we’ll get more.”

The innkeeper seemed reluctant to let Viconia have the room. “Euh… I… regret to inform you… Someone took the room this morning.”

Talek frowned. “Show me who took it.”

The rotund man made a show of remembering something. “Oh my… I forgot. It was master Ni…” Talek glared harshly. “the assassin. I’ll just… clean the room then. Get his stuff out.”

Talek nodded but Montaron intervened. “Hey now, no need for that. We’ll manage that ourselves.”

Talek protested. “What? No, let the guy do the work himself. We’re paying for it.”

Montaron fixed Talek with a stare. “I said, we’ll do that ourselves while we take up our backpacks.”

The young man shrugged. “Okay, if you insist.”

Montaron sighed in relief. “Right. Don’t let us keep ye then. The rest of us will take the usual rooms.” He lowered his voice for Talek to hear. “So maybe we’ll make SOME profit of this day.” He made a dirty face as he took out a couple of handfuls of coins and put them on the counter, then glared at Talek as they climbed the stairs to the room.

“Wow… not bad!” Talek said appreciatively as they entered the luxurious ‘room’. It was more then one room actually. It had a sitting room with a sofa, a hearth, an ornate table and a selection of books and bottles with spirits, a bathing room with a beautiful bathtub and a bedroom with a bed large enough for three persons with expensive looking sheets.

“It damn well should be something like this at these prices! You’ve got an allergy to gold you didn’t tell me about, boy?” Montaron said.

Viconia inspected the books, reading the titles in Common with her finger following the letters. “It isn’t what I was used to in the Underdark, but more then I have received since I came to the surface. She took out a book and leafed through it. “And it HAS been a while since I’ve been able to practice my reading skills of your language.”

Talek looked at the table. “Hey, the guy didn’t even touch his dinner before I finished him!” He grabbed a fork and took a piece of mutton from the plate. “Hmm… cold but still good.”

“Ahw… the poor assassin died without his dinner. Now the worms won’t have as much to eat.” Xzar sobbed.

Montaron chuckled. “Heh, eating a dead man’s dish, wearing a dead man’s plate and carrying a dead man’s sword. Someone’s getting’ used to the adventurer’s life.” He went into the bedroom. “Ah, I thought there had to be this. Come to daddy.”

Talek took a sip from the wine and grimaced at the liquid gone sour. “What have you got?”

Montaron’s voice sounded content from the bedroom. “The assassin’s backpack. This is nice. We might just make some profit out of your idiocy after all. Seems the guy was pretty successful in the past. Had a penchant for jewellery too. And this is silk. All black and ‘oooh look, I’m an assassin. Be scared of me’ of course. Goes to show all the gold can’t buy taste I guess.”

Talek scooped up a cold potato and chewed it before replying without much enthusiasm. “Oh yeah, great. Any nice swords in there?”

“Let me see if I can get some basics of economics trough that skull of ye. Gold buys magic swords.” Montaron said sarcastically. “What’s this? Hm… strange boots. Doesn’t go with any of the other outfits. Much too sensible. Not like we need them though.” The boots were tossed in the living room, hitting Xzar in the stomach.

The necromancer gave a short scream about bunny surprise attack before looking at the boots.

“Hey Monty, there’s something about these boots.” He said excitedly.

“If it’s got something to do with rodents or creatures from far off lands that want to eat our body parts I don’t care.” The halfling responded flatly.

“Nono… I’ve read about this kind of boots. Long ago. Before… before the bunnies came.” Xzar looked around fearfully for a second. “I’ve studied this kind of enchantment. These boots are happy-slappy MAGIC boots!”

“ENCHANTED boots?” Montaron sounded very interested. “Ye know what it does? A nice pair could get us a LOT of coin.”

“Oooh… I do, I do. You see this sign cut in the hide? It causes small alterations in the…” Xzar started.

“The SHORT version, so ye’re finished before sundown if it’s possible.” Montaron returned to the living room.

Xzar pouted. “It deflects missiles.” He handed the boots back.

“Hmm… those should be worth our stay… on the other hand…” He seemed to have reached a decision. “Hey, boy!” Montaron threw the magical items at Talek who caught them in his hands while keeping the fork between his teeth.

He swallowed the food. “Me? Nah, I’ll be fine. Let Viconia or Xzar have them.” He grinned. “The two of you are pretty skinny. Besides, I’ve got my armour.”

“The two of them won’t be the ones charging a bunch of archers that are aiming for the eyes. And since ye STILL refuse to use a shield or helmet, this thing might save yer ass. So wear the bloody things.”

Talek gave the hide boots a disapproving glare. “These things are bloody ugly. Couldn’t the guy who made this made some better shoes? I know hide is warm and all but…”

Montaron’s face twitched. “Just… put on the boots, okay? Stunning good looks never saved anyone from arrows.”

Viconia gave a short laughter. “I’m not sure about that.”

The halfling rolled his eyes. “Not THAT way, and in that case, people won’t look at the boots. Unless that’s their thing.”

Talek was putting on the boots at the time, looking wistfully at his old plated footwear. “I better get shot at soon for this. Think we can buy these things in a better shape?”

Montaron took the assassings backpack and stuffed the valuables in and gave Talek a dry look. “Not as long as I keep the gold. Now let’s get our own stuff to our room. And then let’s see if we can find some place to sell this junk. At this hour there should be some people at the carnival who won’t ask questions.” He walked out of the room, followed by a sulking Xzar. “We’ll come back in a second priest.”

Talek quickly stole another bite of mutton before heading out.

“Talek… wait for a second.” Viconia said, closing her book.

“Hm?” Talek stopped and turned, swallowing his mouthful.

“In front of the innkeeper, you called me ‘friend.’” Viconia said and paused.

“Yeah?” Talek said, clearly expecting a question.

“Did you do that because the man annoyed you? You hardly know me for a day.” The Sharran leaned back against the bookshelf.

Talek frowned, as if the question was the most foolish he had heard. “What? You fought with us, you healed us, you’ve guarded us and even if I don’t exactly understand what happened, Xzar says you saved me. What else am I supposed to call you?”

Viconia continued. “And after ONE day, you trust me, even if every other person, including the halfling and the wizard, have told you not to?”

The young man shrugged. “You haven’t done anything to get at me. And Montaron distrusts EVERYONE.”

Viconia studied his face. “Tell me, Montaron mentioned something to me about how you were betrayed recently.”

A scowl appeared on Talek’s face. “Khalid and Jaheira. Yeah. I DID make a mistake there. I make a lot of them. But not that one. Never again!”

“But you still trust me.” The drow asked.

“I’m not letting those two make up how I live or whom I trust. I know to watch my back with them around, that’s it!”

“Hey swordlover, I know it’s a nice room, but you’re sleeping with the rest of the commoners.” Montaron’s voice sounded from below, getting some irate remarks from awakened guests.

Talek gave Viconia a half smile and a wink. “Eh, better go down. Still a bit grumpy about the room thing I bet. See ya in a few.” He turned. “COMING!” He yelled, getting loud curses from the guests in reply.

Viconia stared at the closed door. “Talek Gorionson. He wouldn’t last five seconds in Menzoberranzan. Utter and total fool. If it wasn’t for the thief’s warning, I’d have him eat out of my hands already.” She looked at the room and smiled. “But I can’t say I disapprove of this particular action.”

…

Imoen was walking through Candlekeep again. On the background she heard the familiar droning of the Readers reciting Alundo’s prophecy. She knew something was off but she couldn’t quite remember what. Suddenly she saw people rushing past her. Ruby and Gaton. Two friends of her. They seemed excited for some reason as they ran into the center courtyard in front of the entrance of the library. Curious, she followed them.

As she entered, she saw a huge crowd had gathered. More then she had ever seen in the central courtyard. In the middle was a platform. On it was…

Talek standing with a noose around his neck. Beside him Montaron and Xzar were already hung, their bodies moving softly. The crowd around were jeering. Talek was glaring at them with the look she knew. The look he usually gave to most people in Candlekeep. An executioner, dressed in loose black clothing with a cap over his head was tightening the noose around his neck.

Imoen screamed and ran towards the platform. The crowd parted before her she ran up the stairs when she bumped into something hard and metallic and fell off again. She looked up. The Gatewarden, bigger and scarier than normal, was staring down at her.

“Do not interfere Imoen. Today we are doing what we should have done a long time ago. He’s a born murderer, and he’ll die like one.” His voice sounded stern and hard. The crowd roared in approval.

“No, NO! It’s not true. Let him go! LET HIM GO!” Imoen yelled. She stormed the middle-aged guardsman and tried to pound him out of the way with her fists, but he didn’t budge until suddenly he jerked and fell over backwards.

She looked at Talek again. He was still standing there with a noose on his neck, but now he was smiling the contented smile she had come to expect when he killed. Except it didn’t disappear. In his hand he had a bloody bastard sword. Blood seemed to stream from it, rather then drip, falling over the stairs to her feet. He seemed to see her for the first time and waved at her.

“Hey Im. Sorry, but the old bastard’s right.” He grinned.

“Talek…. No…” She said.

“KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM!” The crowd screamed in anger.

“No… no, no, no, no…” Imoen repeated on and on. “This is all screwed up. Stop this. STOP THIS!”

“Your mercy is misplaced, child. Justice will be served.” Imoen looked at the executioner. The cap had been removed that it was a woman holding the lever operating the trap door. “The Balance demands payment done for crimes committed.”

Talek looked at her. His face still had the contented smile on its lips. “You’re lucky I promised Imoen not to kill you, druid.”

“TALEK!” Imoen yelled.

The lever was pulled. The trap door opened. The rope tightened. Imoen screamed.

“Imoen! Imoen wake up!” Jaheira’s voice sounded.

The young girl opened her eyes. Jaheira, looking a tad sleepy and wearing only her tunic loomed above her with a concerned expression on her face. Imoen babbled. “Jaheira… please… don’t do it!”

“You were having a nightmare girl. Minsc heard you screaming and called for me. Do not worry. I do not intend to do anything but sleep.”

“What happened? I heard screaming. Has Evil slipped by Minsc and Boo? Say it is not so.” A bald head was at the entrance of the tent, his hand covering his eyes as he did so.

“Just a nightmare, Minsc. I will take care of her.” Jaheira said. “Thanks for calling me.”

“Oooh… Minsc has nightmares too. Of evil gnolls boiling Minsc’s witch in a big pot. With turnips!” He took out his hamster. “Boo always comforts Minsc. Would you like to hold him?”

“No… no thanks Minsc. I’ll be all right.” Imoen seemed to have composed herself.

“Right. Minsc will go outside and look for evil then.” The head vanished.

Jaheira sat next to Imoen. “Do you wish to speak about the dream? It helps sometimes.”

Imoen nodded. She wiped her face and seemed surprised there were tears on it. “It was… about Talek. Oh Jaheira, you were right. I should have never let him go alone with them.” It was clear who ‘them’ were. Imoen’s face was wracked with guilt.

“What is done is done, Imoen. Besides, I have thought about it. If Talek would indeed refuse to travel with us, it might have been the best solution for the short term. You and he alone would have little chance on your own, and I wouldn’t put it past Montaron to arrange an ‘accident’ for you.”

“But I’m scared, Jaheira. I’m scared about what might happen to Talek. What he might become. I was worried in Candlekeep, now I’m scared.” She breathed deeply a few times.

“He will be fine Imoen, I will see to it.” Jaheira put a hand on Imoen’s shoulder.

“I dream I was back in Candlekeep. And there was a hanging. They were hanging Talek. Everyone was happy. And then Talek killed the Gatewarden and said he was a murderer and then…” Imoen looked worriedly at Jaheira. “Euh… you were in it too.”

Jaheira nodded. “You may tell me. I will not be insulted.”

“You were the executioner Jaheira. You said… you said he had to answer for his crimes.” She looked pleadingly at the druid. “You wouldn’t do it, right Jaheira? If Talek does… stupid… things…” her voice hesitated on the innocent words. “You wouldn’t… kill him would you?”

“Absolutely not.” Jaheira said vehemently. “I have sworn to protect Talek. I would be spitting on Gorion’s grave if I did that! If Talek acts inappropriately, I shall make sure he sees the errors of his ways, once I regain his trust that is.”

Imoen smiled. “Thanks… I think I’m all right now. It does help. If Minsc is still guarding, I can’t have slept for long.”

“Probably not.” Jaheira smiled. “He is still excited about the gnoll traces he found. After watching him in battle I must your choice was inspired. And after talking to him, I can see why you assume he might find common ground with Talek.” She yawned. “But enough talk. It has been an all too long day and I had guard duty yesterday in the mines. I need sleep.”

Imoen nodded and yawned. “Man, it’s only been a day since the mines? Feels a lot longer.”

Jaheira moved to leave the tent. “Just remember that Imoen. It has just been a day. There is only so much trouble even Talek can get into in a day.”

“Yeah… guess you’re right. Night Jaheira” Imoen closed her eyes.

“Good night.”