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About Blood 42: A Game of Chess


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#1 Guest_Rand Al'Tor_*

Posted 13 September 2005 - 05:56 PM

42 A Game of Chess

As Imoen and her friends travelled north-east, the sun travelled west. As evening had fallen the Belching Dragon, the only tavern in the town of Nashkel, had contented visitors. They were about the only ones, as a lot of people had vacated the tavern as soon as they entered. Which suited these visitors just fine. Montaron in particular was smiling happily as he grabbed handfuls of golden coins with the Amnish seal and let them rain down in the purse. Xzar too was grinning, clutching a beaker of wine in his hand. Viconia sat in her chair with an amused look in her eyes, observing the two other companions.

“You may as well give up, wizard. You won’t succeed, not in a thousand years.” She said.

Edwin stared at the chess board. He looked tense and concentrated, with a hint of worry. At the other side of the chess board Talek stuck his tongue through his teeth in concentration. The conjurer frowned at the drow’s comments.

“Silence cleric. What do you know of my talents? I can do this, I know. (I will not fail, not I, not now!”

Montaron almost lovingly inspected one of the coins and grinned. “Ye’re a fool for even trying, wizard.”

“Edwin is sweating. Can you see the itty-bitty little drops fall from his face? Yeeess… he’s gonna end up like a dried up prune if he keeps sweating like that.” Xzar said.

“SHUT UP!” The conjurer snarled. “Talek… anytime you’re ready. I will show these fools how vastly they underestimated me.”

Talek nodded and hesitantly reached for one of the pieces. He carefully picked it up and then, ever so slowly, put it down again. Slowly withdrawing his hand, he gazed down the board and nodded with a confident grin on his face.

Edwin went pale and started breathing heavily. “No… No… NO… NOT AGAIN! That is IMPOSSIBLE!” He rose from his chair and looked Talek in the face. “You… I…” With a quick move he grabbed the chess piece Talek had moved.

“A KNIGHT! Two squares backwards or forwards and one sideways, or one forward or backwards and two sideways! NOT three squares ahead! Are you deliberately feigning incompetence merely to test my patience?”

“I DID move it like that.” Talek took the knight from Edwin’s numb hands, placing it back on the board where it had started out. “One, two forward…” He turned the piece ninety degrees, so the horse looked at the side of the chessboard. “… and one sideways.”

Edwin sagged in his chair. “That is not… how it…works. (I capitulate, I yield… As astounding as it is to believe, my best is simply not good enough.)”

“Took longer than I expected.” Viconia chuckled.

Talek stared at the chess piece. “Still think it’s a stupid rule. I mean… a TOWER can go across the whole battlefield but the horse can only move in a freaky way like that? You said this game was like war. I thought the things were gonna change in small magical dolls and fight each other or something.”

Edwin seemed close to crying. “It’s a ROOK, and a KNIGHT. And this game has been played by the finest tactical minds and most successful generals in history (and I would gladly take my rightful place among them should they show themselves.)”

Talek gave the game a dismissive look. “I think it’s boring. And why do they call it a knight? It’s a horse… look!” He held out the chess piece. “So… who’s winning now?”

“YOU’VE won! Whatever will allow me to stop suffering the mind numbing experience that is seeing the most noble of pastimes being butchered by someone who lacks the cognitive skills for a successful game of rock-paper-scissors.”

“Does that mean you’ll play me again? I know how to play!” Xzar cheered.

“You? You tried to EAT my queen!” Edwin exclaimed.

“She was dead! Dead queens get eaten. Besides… I won, didn’t I?” Xzar grinned. “I’d have chewed on the king, but he didn’t look as tasty!”

“That was a fluke! A fluke and I will prove it!” Edwin arranged the chessboard to face Xzar and started placing the chess pieces again.

“Do you feel no need to participate, halfling? You must be no stranger to schemes.” Viconia said.

“I know enough not to get myself killed, woman, and that’s it.” Montaron took a sip of wine. “And I’ve got to deal with them while I’m working, so there ain’t no way I’m gonna spend my free time plotting strategies so my ivory dolls will kill the other ones.” He drank some of his wine. “Talek’s idea about fighting dolls isn’t a bad one for a change… it’s nice to see something or someone ELSE fight for their lives and maybe some gold for a change.”

“Hm, I think some of us would rather participate than watch… “ Viconia looked at Talek, then suddenly frowned. “Talek... is there some kind of reason you’re letting your nails grow on one hand? Some bizarre surfacer custom?”

Talek looked at his left hand. The nails were indeed sticking out rather far. It didn’t prohibit grabbing things but was clearly noticeable.

“Ick!” Talek said. “So that’s why my gauntlets started fitting badly these days.” He glared at the offending nails. “Odd. Can’t remember ever having my nails grow this size. Bah, first the blood, now this. Ah well… we’ll make short work of that.” He took out his belt knife and meticulously started to manicure himself.

“Hmm… Both at the left hand. There must be a connection!” Viconia mused. “Then there is the smell of blood.”

Xzar had also heard the exchange. He spoke in a soft, silky voice. “Can I have the nails? I’d like to do a few… things with them. Just testing out some… theories… I promise I won’t eat them… not all of them.”

Edwin rolled his eyes. “Oooh… Talek has accelerated nail growth… where’s my altar, so I can slaughter a suitable sacrifice? (What’s next? A skin-rash that foretells glory? Light sneezing that gives tidings of a grand fate? Whatever happened to people reading the future out of animal intestines? A least we’d have a proper meal afterwards.)”

A shadow fell across the table, getting the attention of Viconia and Montaron. The newcomer spoke. “I thought I might find you here, spending the reward you received for your bloody work.”

Talek looked up and his face immediately darkened. “You! What the hell are YOU doing here?”

The old Helmite priest gave Talek a look that showed he was as happy to see him as the other way around. “I came looking for you after I heard you killed Captain Brage. I need to ask some questions.”

“Well you can just go shag a gibberling, you old…” Talek started.

Montaron made a calming gesture. “Let’s hear what the old Helmite has to say eh? Don’t think ye lowered yerself to talk to us for no reason. Questions are free.” He grinned. “Answers cost money though… fifty gold should do the trick.”

“Fifty gold? You…” The priest started.

“I ain’t a peddler, take it or leave it. But if ye come to us, ye must be pretty desperate.” Montaron took another sip of wine.

“Very well, though it pains me to give money meant to feed the poor going into your grubby little hands.” The Helmite reached in the folds of his robes and took out a small bag of gold, took some out and tossed it on the table. “There is your money… now…”

“Just a second…” Montaron took the bag of gold. “I always check the merchandise before I deal. Being a priest doesn’t make ye honest. Hm… looks like fifty gold all right.”

Viconia chuckled. The male cleric’s head became flushed in anger but he didn’t answer the taunt.

“When you encountered Brage, did he carry a magical sword?”

Montaron nodded.

“Did you retrieve it?” The priest asked.

“It’s fifty gold PER question. I got pretty close to dying. My sweat and tears ain’t cheap.”

The Helmite priest shook a little as he struggled to contain himself, but tossed more gold on the table and waited for Montaron to count it. “Now… did you retrieve the sword?”

Once again Montaron nodded and grinned. “Ye should have asked where it was, Helmite. Now ye’ll have to fork over again to know what we did with it. Your loss, our gain I guess.”

Without saying another word the priest tossed another bag of gold on the table, putting all of his contempt in the act. Montaron took it, counted it and casually pointed to Talek. “He’s got the sword on his back.”

The priest gave Talek a shocked look. “He… he carries the sword?”

“That another question?” Montaron grinned.

“That sword is cursed! It brings nothing but suffering! You must give it to me to destroy it!”

Talek scowled. Montaron calmly started pocketing the gold of the priest. “Tell ye what Helmite. Because ye’ve been a good customer I’ll volunteer some info. We know the sword is cursed and it’s what made Captain Brage go all nutters. We’ve had Xzar here do some investigation. But the boy insists on keeping it for emergencies. What can I say? He asked nicely and I’m a big softy at heart really.” Montaron grinned sarcastically.

“The sword will be the doom of you all if you keep it.” The priest exclaimed.

“Wow, never though I’d hear that sentence outside a bard’s tale.” Montaron chuckled. “Thanks for yer concern, but Talek and I made some agreements regarding him using the sword and my crossbow bolts. Anything else?”

The priest reached into his robes once again. “Very well.” He tossed a well filled and rather large money bag on the table, the gold coins and gems inside making a tinkling sound as it landed on the table. Montaron’s eyes grew large. The Helmite gave him a contemptuous look. “Thousand and five hundred gold. For a sword that you can’t use without going mad. How is THAT?”

Xzar and Edwin looked up from their chess game. Montaron’s mouth remained open as he looked at the bag, but before he could respond Talek spoke up. “No.” He said simply.

Montaron looked panicky. “Talek! Thousand five hundred gold… We can buy a shipload of swords for ye with that.”

Talek sat in his chair and kept his eyes locked on the priest. “I rather toss the sword by the road that that I give it to him, and what you do is your business, but I don’t want a copper from him!”

“But… oh for Mask’s sake…” Montaron sounded desperate now. “You bloody-minded… Gah…” Montaron sat down again, defeated. “You heard him. He ain’t selling and good luck trying to convince him otherwise.”

“That SWORD may not cause anymore pain than it has! I have failed Brage but I must not fail again!” The priest exclaimed. He took the bag and placed in front of Talek. “Take the gold and leave the sword! What do you want more? This can get you what you desire, doesn’t it? You want women, power, booze or whatever you would thirst for… I’m sure the gold will give it to you.”

Talek grabbed the bag of gold. “What I want, old man…” He rose from the chair and in one motion tossed the heavy bag roughly in the priest’s face. “is for you to SHOVE this gold up your damn ASS! If you were dying of thirst I wouldn’t PISS in your mouth for your bloody gold. Now get the HELL out of my sight!” With those words Talek sat down and started cutting his nails again, clenching the knife tightly.

The priest was pale now, looking from face to face and finding no trace that anybody would try to convince Talek. He turned around and walked away. Through clenched teeth he hissed in frustration.

“At least the girl has left the monster. So she won’t be harmed by his folly!”

It was probably not meant to be heard by Talek, but Talek’s ears were sensitive to whispered insults. Before anyone could say something he rose from his chair, letting it drop behind him. The priest just had the time to turn around before Talek plowed into him, sending them both to the floor. The old man raised his hands in front of his face, but Talek pinned one of the arms to the ground with his left hand and stabbed down with the belt knife in the priest’s face and neck, screaming in rage. After about a dozen wounds he relaxed, a contented sigh escaping him despite his face remaining enraged.

The rest of the inn stared in shock. Montaron, who half expected it to happen acted first, grabbed and loaded his crossbow that he kept ready and jumped on the table, keeping it aimed at the other customers.

“Okay, nobody moves or screams, and nobody else dies! We’re just gonna walk out of the tavern and the town, and ye’re gonna go up against the wall and stay there if ye wanna live.” He turned to his companions. “Drow, keep an eye on the backdoor, Xzar, get the gold of the dead priest and move to the frontdoor, Thayvian, take the backpacks, boy, you put away the knife and take your backpack, and cool that hot head of yers. Clock is ticking now and we’ve gotta be gone in a hurry.”

Montaron’s orders were quickly followed, Talek breathing deeply as he cleaned the belt knife on the priest’s clothes and sheathed it. In a matter of seconds the party had assembled their backpacks and was standing near the door. Montaron had made the bartender and all the customers stand against the far wall where he could get a clean shot. “Now, after I’m gone, ye’re gonna count to hundred fifty, slowly and then ye can go and do as ye please, understood?” Everyone nodded.

After an ‘all clear’ signal from Xzar they left the tavern. It was dark outside and the streets were deserted. As they closed the door Montaron made the gesture to wait and for Talek keep the sword ready. Two seconds later the door burst open and a young man rushed out, only to be cut down by Talek and pushed back inside. Montaron appeared again in the doorway, aiming his crossbow at two other customers who had been running at the door and now looked terrified at the corpse. From the back of the tavern a breaking sound could be heard.

“Anyone ELSE wants to be a hero?” The people shook their heads. “Then get back to the wall and start counting again!”

As soon as the scared townspeople had complied Montaron closed the door again and silently signalled the others to move out. Soon Viconia joined them again, with a mocking smile on her lips. “One of them apparently thought he’d be able to overpower me. He was mistaken.”

“So you were that…” Montaron started then looked forward. “Soldiers. Talek, keep yer sword in yer scabbard till I tell ye to fight.” Montaron quickly put away his crossbow as a group of soldiers of the garrison came towards them.

“Where are you going?” The officer said non-comitally.

“Back north, officer. Think we’ve overstayed our welcome here.” Montaron said calmly.

The officer nodded but frowned. “At night?”

Montaron pointed to Viconia. “The drow ain’t used to sunlight. And we’re well equipped for the dangers of the road.”

The explanation seemed to satisfy the soldier and he motioned them to pass through. “Go then, and don’t hurry back. Northerners aren’t very welcome these days, especially your kind.” He looked at Talek and Viconia.

Talek bared his teeth but said nothing. Montaron nodded with some relief. “Of course officer. Don’t worry, we ain’t planning to return anytime soon.”

With those words exchanged the party walked out of town, starting to run on Montoran’s cue once they were out of the town’s view. It was an overcast night, so their traces would be hard to follow. After a good hour of putting as much distance between them and the town as possible Montaron pointed at the side of the road. Once they were out of sight of the road they made camp.

Talek was rather quiet through the whole happening. As the campfire started burning he turned to Montaron. “Euh… look… sorry about killing that priest… I mean… I really tried to keep calm but…”

Montaron made a dismissive gesture. “Eh, I ain’t gonna expect the impossible out of ye. Besides, it ended up pretty well. We can’t go back to the town, but we got the gold.” Montaron smiled broadly. “As long as ye don’t go completely suicidal on us, I can deal with a corpse here and there. Besides, the priest was getting on my nerves as well. And ye kept nice and quiet with guards.”

Edwin sniffed. “I am less pleased over the proceedings. I had hoped to rest in better circumstances tonight than a miserable tent. That town might have been woefully inadequate in the most basic of services, but it is still preferable above a tent in the woods like some common brigand.”

Montaron chuckled. “As far as Amnian law is concerned, that’s what we are now, Thayvian. On the lam as they say. But hey, tomorrow we’ll travel to Beregost to find that Tranzig. And ye’ll be the one enjoying the luxuries wizard, because the three of us aren’t exactly welcome there after last time, and the drow is likely to get lynched.”

“And after we found that Tranzig guy, we got to go to the Friendly Arm.” Talek said. “I’m worried about Imoen… and I need to… tell her about all this. “

“Sure ye wanna do that?” Montaron said.

“Hey, I don’t hide things from Imoen.” Talek exclaimed. “Well… I did… but that was stupid. Imoen is my friend Montaron. I don’t think she’ll like it, but… we’ll be all right.” He took off his blood splattered gauntlets and took the belt knife to finish shortening the two remaining nails.

“We’ll be all right.”




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