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About Blood 47: Elminster


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#1 Guest_Rand Al'Tor_*

Posted 13 September 2005 - 06:11 PM

47: Elminster

The night was a calm affair. Talek buried the mad cleric while the others set up camp. The child, Folon, attempted to run away soon, and only a quick sleep spell from Viconia prevented him from disappearing into the forest. Montaron quickly produced ropes to bind the Folon’s legs. The boy reacted by wailing and screaming uncontrollably, crying out for his parents and his friend whose corpses were a few hundred meters further. As the midnight meal was prepared Edwin, Montaron and Viconia were clearly slowly losing patience at the incessant noise. Only Xzar seemed unaffected, studying his spellbook while ticking a rhythm on the cover.

When the child managed to hop over to Viconia and went completely berserk, trying to scratch and bite her, the three decided it was enough and with a combined effort tied the wild child’s hands and gagged him. When dinner was ready, Talek returned and asked whether the child didn’t need to eat. As a result he was appointed the one to do it. The swordsman accepted the task, and never even raised his voice. However, the food that wasn’t spilled on the forest ground was mostly spit in his face and the child managed to bite his fingers at least three times.

Despite his companions’ mirth at his failure, Talek didn’t seem too discouraged. Putting some water on the fire, he proceeded to wash the child, ignoring both the child’s crying and screaming and his companions’ demands to put the gag back in place. He then dressed the child in a spare tunic that reached to the child’s knees, tied the child up in his own sheets and, after Viconia threw a lead sling bullet at Talek’s head with moderate force, gagged the trashing child as well. By that time it was well past midnight and everyone but Viconia fell asleep, even the poor Folon.

Morning broke and less than two kilometres away another party said their goodbyes to the old wizard and his apprentice. Dynaheir quickly asked some hints from the more experienced wizard, Imoen vainly tried to convince Jaheira to cure her hangover and Khalid talked to Melicamp and mixed warm goodbyes with handing over the recipe of his dish of the night before and some whispered threats regarding what he’d do if Melicamp used anything but the best ingredients.

They headed north, to the Friendly Arm, making good time so that they were almost halfway by noon.

With the sun at its peak back south, the other party awoke again. Breakfast was eaten, the child ate hungrily now, spells were memorized, prayers were said, drills performed and the usual blood on Talek’s left-hand was scrubbed off. After some talk, two persons left the party, the rest staying behind. Edwin and Folon, with a small piece of parchment that explained where the child came from and the instructions to leave the child in an obvious place so someone would get him to a temple.

And as they left, another person arrived at Beregost. Tranzig’s mage robe was dirtied and it looked like he had just had a long walk. He had a pouch at his belt, tinkling with gold. His travel too had been calm, except a few desperate kobolds that had scattered after he had launched a fireball among them. When Feldepost’s Inn appeared before him the mage grinned and wiped the sweat from his brow. It was an overcast and chilly day, the last warmth of the summer unable to heat the Sword-Coast, but the wizard was obviously not used to physical labour.

Feldepost’s face was split in a wide, honest grin when he saw Tranzig enter.

“Master Tranzig! Oh, I was worrying about your fate! Good to have you back with us!”

Tranzig smiled back. “Ah, the roads are bad these days, but I gots me some magical protection!”

Feldepost nodded and grabbed a bottle of wine. “Of course! They don’t stand a chance against you. Have a glass of wine! It’s on the house!”

Tranzig walked to the bar. “Oh I not be saying ‘no’ to that. Thanks, Master Feldepost.” He took a gulp of the wine and sighed. “Ah, all this travels is murder I tells ya. Good to be back here again! Anything happened while I was away?” He brought the glass to his mouth again.

“Oh yes! I heard the mines in Nashkel are working again! Some half-orc was cursing the iron I heard!” Feldepost said.

Tranzig swallowed the wine badly and started coughing. By the time he had recovered he was smiling, although his face was pale. “Really? Any… any clues as to who’s behind it?”

Feldepost shook his head. “No. Lots of people here still think the Amnians are behind it, but I’m with you now. Zhentarim. They’re behind it all. After all, Amnians NOT wanting to sell their wares? Hah!”

The wizard gave a forced chuckle. “Any news about who did the good deed?” His voice sounded slightly too casual.

Feldepost scowled. “Ah, that’s what has some people confused and angry. Remember those people I told you about? The ones that killed all those people here?”

Tranzig became slightly paler. “The ones with the long-haired killer?”

“Yeah. Folks say it’s them. Some people say that they’re probably all right after all, and some people say it all evens out, but I say ‘A copper never becomes gold.’ And to think they were here yesterday.”

“What?” Tranzig now couldn’t contain himself. “They were here?”

“Well, the two half-elves were. Came walking in in broad daylight, blunt as you please. And then, of all the gal, they walked up to the officer of the Flaming Fist, and she let them walk away!”

“They left? Did they come here?” Tranzig asked with some fear in his eyes.

“Of course not! I wouldn’t have those criminal half-elves in my establishment! Even IF their murderous friend isn’t with them anymore.” Tranzig said.

“He’s not?”

“I heard they returned separately in Nashkel, the half elves with the girl and the halfling and the wizard with the murderer. And even worse, they say that murderer, Talek, is now accompanied by a drow. It’s all rumours of course. Hmpf… with any luck they’ll stay in Amn and never return to us.” Feldepost nodded.

“I’s drinking to that.” Tranzig looked in his glass with scared eyes and gulped the liquid down. “I’s gotta go to my room for a moment Feldepost… I feel… a bit bad at the moment…”

“Of course, master Tranzig.” The innkeeper lowered his voice.” Anything for a hero like you.”

“What?” Tranzig arched his eyebrows.

Feldepost gave him a conspiratory wink. “No need to tell me anything you don’t want to. I just want to say how I admire your efforts!”

“What are you talking about?” Tranzig asked.

Beregost bowed forward and whispered. “A friend of yours arrived yesterday. She urgently needed information, so I showed her to your room. That was why I was so worried about you.

Tranzig had been pale, now his face was possibly white. He nodded mutely and gave the innkeeper a desperate grin, then dashed over to his room.

Feldepost smiled to himself. “Such a modest man.”

In his room in the meantime, Tranzig desperately went through his drawers, sighing in relief as he found the documents.

“Oh, Thanks Beshaba for sparing me that… At least no papers is pointing at me.” He sat on the bed and looked at them. “Well screw them all sideways, I’s getting the Nine Hells outta here.” He put the parchments in the fireplace and spoke a few words. A small stream of flames flowed from his hands and ignited the material.

“There, no proof that I was ever involved.” He stared at the flames. “This isn’t what I signed up for. I’s not supposed to be fighting. Just getting messages to assassins and that fool Mulahey!” He rose and started packing. “And now someone’s already searched my place yesterday, same day as the half-elves get here? Yeah right! And if they’s got my number, then that Talek Gorionson that killed everyone has it too. So I’s getting to Waterdeep as fast as I can. Maybe even Neverwinter. And let Tazok find someone else to get his throat cut.”

Just as he finished packing there was a knocking on his door. He jumped and reached for his spell components. “Who’s there?”

“Just Feldepost, Master Tranzig. I’ve got someone who says he has a message from someone called Nimbul. He told me to say it was something about ‘a dark song lasting longer than expected, but finally having reached its inevitable end at the hands of him whose music brings silence.’ He says it’s a private message.” There was an undertone of excitement in the innkeeper’s voice.

Tranzig almost stopped breathing. “H… here? Is he mad?” He whispered. “Let him in, let him in. And euh… Feldepost. I thinks I might be leaving soon. Important business suddenly came up.”

“Oh, I understand completely, though I will miss your company. I’ll leave you to your… conversation then.” With what sounded suspiciously like a giggle the rotund man returned downstairs.

When he was sure no one else was on the hall Tranzig opened the door with a smile. “So Nimbul DID manage to rub out Talek, that’s the first good news tod…”

The smile froze on his lips when the red-dressed wizard in front of him pushed a dagger against his throat. “I would say that I regret to tell you that the good news has been annulled, but that would not be correspondent with the truth. (Always wanted to say something like that) Your blundering idiot Nimbul was defeated by my companions without my help (which shows his competence) and they want to have a conversation with you.”

Tranzig just looked down at the dagger. “Oh shit.”



Talek was getting restless. While waiting for Edwin to return he had practiced and drawn some more. And then he had got bored.

“Hey Montaron, why…”

The halfling was lying on comfortable spot in the grass looking at the sky. “For the thousandth time, boy, because as soon as we set foot in the town they’ll lynch us or hand us to the Fist. Now let me get some damn rest.”

“Bah.” Talek said. “I could handle a few Fist… And Edwin might get problems. And besides, I want to nail the bastard, and quick.”

Viconia idly played with her amulet of Shar. “You shouldn’t be hasty, Talek. Revenge can be more enjoyable if one lets it ripen for some time.”

Talek made a dismissive sound in his throat. “To hell with that. I wanna find who’s responsible. And I wanna go to the Friendly Arm.” He leaned against a tree. “I miss Imoen. I wonder how she’s doing.”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on her. She’s is doing fine. I wish I could say the same of thee, really.” A voice sounded.

There was a moment of frantic action as everyone reached for their weapons and spell components. In the meanwhile the owner of the voice came from behind the tree. An old man with a white beard and a rather large pointy hat. It seemed impossible that he had snuck up on the party.

Talek lowered his sword. “Huh? It’s that old man.”

Viconia smiled cruelly and softly patted her hand with the magical warhammer. “And a foolish old man at that. Males of your age should stay in taverns to tell stories. Out here, dangerous things can happen.”

Montaron scowled. “Especially since we’ve seen him before. Okay old timer. Ye’ve got three seconds to tell us why ye’ve been following us before I make the point moot.” He aimed the crossbow at him.

“Calm yourself young Zhentarim. I am here to speak with Talek here.” The old man said.

Montaron flinched. “I don’t know how ye found out about that, dead man, but unless ye’ve got proof of being Black Network yerself ye’ve just bought yerself a crossbow bolt.” Xzar looked nervous as he held his hands ready for a spell.

The man ignored them and faced Talek, who had his weapon ready and seemed to consider just using it.

“Allow me to introduce myself. My name Elminster.”

The statement caused a lot of reactions. Montaron’s face suddenly went white, he crossbow shaking in his hands and his mouth twisted in a grimace of fear. Xzar shrieked and dropped his spell components. Viconia, seeing this held her hammer tighter and eyes the newcomer warily.

Talek kept his sword up. “Oh… hello I guess. Montaron, can I kill him or is he a Zhentarim guy?”

Montaron answered; sweat starting to form on his forehead. “No… it’s the blasted head-Harper himself!”

Now Talek’s sword went up again. “A Harper? I think I’ve seen enough of those!”

“Hold thy peace for a moment. First of all, I do not intend to harm your companions. Despite their dark allegiances, their goals… converge with ours for now. Both the Black Netwok and the Harp strive to end the iron crisis.” Elminster assured the scowling swordsman. Talek gave him a suspicious look, while Montaron still held his crossbow ready, a manic grin on his face. Xzar just hissed.

“Oh yeah? What do you want then?” Talek shot back.

“I have some information that might interest thee. First of all news regarding thy childhood companion, Imoen.”

“Imoen! Where is she? Is she all right! Tell me!” Talek immediately lowered his sword.

“She is in perfect health and travelling to the Friendly Arm Inn. She is eager to speak with thee. Thou art fortunate with a friend like her. She means the best for thee, perhaps even more than thou thyself.” Elminster said as he took a pipe from the folds of his robe. “May I smoke a bit? Stressful days. Hardly any time to enjoy my pipe.”

Talek shrugged and nodded. “Right… I was going to her after this. I wanna talk to her too. Anything else?”

“I could give thy information of the bandits, but I think thou hath already made steps to that goal.”

“Right, right… if you’re done talking you can leave, Harper.” Talek turned around and made a dismissive gesture.

Elminster raised his bushy eyebrows. “Thou still harbourth a grudge against Those Who Harp?”

Talek didn’t turn around. “You’re damn right I do!”

The wizard sighed. “I knew Gorion, before thou had been born.”

Talek spun around and raised his sword. “Don’t you talk about Gorion!”

“Tis true that he found thee in his line of duty as a Harper. I was there when he decided to raise thee. Let me assure thee that he made that choice as a father, and not as a Harper.”

Talek kept scowling, but his sword wavered slightly. “I knew that.” He said in a slightly broken voice.

“His passing fills me with regret; though it pales to thine I am sure. Gorion was… as close a friend as I had. When I found out the enemies thou faceth now were on thy track, I immediately send a warning. It was that letter that caused him to flee Candlekeep that night.” The old wizard sighed, blowing out some smoke. “Alas, as I spied on our enemies, they spied on us. Somehow, the message was intercepted. The sad result… we all know.”

Talek’s eyes turned moist, his sword still kept up. He didn’t say anything.

Elminster continued. “Thy path would be of concern to Gorion. Not merely for moral reasons, Talek, but for thy well-being. Thou hath noticed there is something evil within thee that affects thy mind, thy body and thy very soul. Thy actions will only...”

Viconia suddenly interrupted. She had lowered her guard, unlike the two Zhentarim. “Before you continue, aged wizard, there are some matters I would like to see clarified. Just a matter of learning surfacer customs. You’re a powerful mage, no? If the frightened stares of the thief and the necromancer are anything to go about you harbour some powerful spells in your wrinkled, little head.”

Elminster paused for a few moments, apparently considering ignoring the drow, but Talek’s attention was obviously drawn to her. “Questions of followers of thy mistress rarely are for curiosity or hunger for knowledge but to spread misery, young drow. But to answer thy question, yes, the passing of the years and the will of Mystra have granted me many ways to do what I must do.”

Viconia nodded, looking mockingly thoughtful and then smiled. “Then I am sure, since you are so concerned for Talek’s fate, that you will join us.” Montaron let his eyes leave Elminster for he first time, looking at Viconia as if she had gone mad. “After all, with a strong wizard on our side, we might not even need to go after the bandits. You can just lead us to those responsible for Talek’s caretaker’s killer and destroy him for our very eyes, leaving perhaps the final blow to Talek?”

Talek frowned. “Travelling with him? Well… maybe… HE hasn’t done anything after all…”

“I cannot do such a thing, Talek. I must remain neutral in this battle. It is thy battle to wage, in more ways than one.” Elminster said.

Talek scowled and seemed to want to say something, but Viconia was first.

“And I was thinking you would want revenge for your friend as well, wizard. I’m not sure how friendship works. In the underdark, we had merely allies. However, it was customary that if ones ally was in danger, one would come to protect him. Unless something more important interfered. Tell me, wizard. What was the important thing that night?”

“There was no other thing. Talek, she is manipulating you into chasing away all those that want to help thee.” Elminster said.

“Don’t you dare say that about my FRIENDS, Harper.” Talek’s voice was low and dangerous now, rising anger obvious in his voice. “But tell me, where were you? Where were you when Gorion needed you? I was too weak. You’re powerful. WHERE WERE YOU?” The last words were yelled. Talek’s breathing sped up.

“Talek, I came not to discuss the past. Thou must listen to me. Thy current path leads to thy own destruction.” Elminster said.

“Don’t. Change. The subject.” Talek growled. “WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU?”

“I could not be there.” Elminster said. “I cannot explain why.” He sighed. “This matter goes deeper than thou knowst, Talek. I cannot tell thee why, but I cannot pick sides in this matter.”

“Oh, the bigger picture?” Viconia said with mock disappointment. “And I was hoping to hear an original excuse. You bore me, wizard. I think you should leave now.”

Montaron was looking fearful now. “Drow, I think ye’ve gone too f…”

“DIE, YOU LYING SACK OF BONES!” With a scream Talek struck the old mage, only to have his sword bounce off violently. Montaron cursed and fired his crossbow and Xzar cast his spell, but to no avail. Elminster calmly remained standing while Talek rained blow after blow on him. Viconia had been startled by Talek’s attack, but hadn’t moved.

“Thou art hurting thyself more than me by indulging the violence within thee, Talek.”

“Shut UP! I don’t wanna hear another WORD from you!” Talek threw his sword down and tried to punch the old man in the face, but his face showed he only succeeded in hurting himself.

“What I say is for thy own good! Thou MUST listen to me!”

Talek panted, his teeth bared and his eyes burning with hatred. His hand shot out again, taking hold of the wizard’s pipe. With a quick movement he threw it on the ground and stepped with his foot on it, causing the ancient object to shatter.

“Go away, old shithole! And NEVER show your face to me again! DO YOU HEAR ME?” He yelled, his face red.

Elminster sighed. “I see thou art not ready to heed my words. Very well, I shall take my leave. I shall return later, and hope it will not be too late.” With those words the wizard made a gesture and faded in front of them.

“BLOODY BASTARD!” Talek took his sword and tossed it at a nearby tree. “And to think I almost believed him!” He looked at Viconia. “Thanks for keeping your eyes open Viconia. And don’t worry; I don’t believe a word he said about you.”

“Glad to hear it, Talek.” Viconia smiled.

Montaron sat down and counted on his fingers. “Okay, let’s see what this changes. One: Elminster, the pointy-headed boss of the Harpers who took out some mighty powerful guys in the Black network shows up and tells us he knows who we are, what we want and what we ate for dinner yesterday night. Two: He’s interested in YOU,” he pointed at Talek “which we’ll put with the bloody hand, smelling blood, weird dreams, the dogs liking ye and all the other things that are going weird around ye. Three: Ye get in a discussion about yer old man, in which the pointy hat says a lot of threatening stuff without actually saying anything, which happens to be exactly what the higher ups of the Zhentarim do.”

Viconia looked curious. “What is this ‘Zhentarim?’ you always speak off?” Viconia asked

“Four: The drow now bloody knows too! Five: When the talk went bad, we all took our shots at Elminster, who let us all live, so we’re still alive. Conclusion…” He went for his backpack. “I need a drink.”

“I would disadvise that.” Everybody turned to the source of the sound. “If you go around yelling about your relation to supposedly secret organizations while sober (not that I wouldn’t have found out anyway using my keen analytical mind) I’d hate to see what you’d do while drunk. Perhaps you’d change into Talek, and one of those is enough of an assault on my nerves and dwindling hope for the minds of the rest of humanity.” Edwin said, pushing another mage in front of him. The mage fell forward on the ground. He looked up at Montaron’s scowling face.

“So ye’re Tranzig eh?” The halfling took out his short sword. “Guess Beshaba’s got her eyes on ye today. Ye see, I’m having a bad day, and I’m gonna make it better by making sure someone else’s day is worse.” He pointed the sword at Tranzig. “Guess who?”




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