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8. Emancipation Facilitation Operation


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#1 Guest_Oryx_*

Posted 12 November 2002 - 04:58 PM

8. Emancipation Facilitation Operation and Information Negotiation Justification

10 FLAMERULE 2100
WEST OF BEREGOST – THE CHAOS CIRCUS

Onyx sheathed his axe and looked around the circus. The Skald and the Jester were still out cold, there were bodies everywhere - including those of his five companions - and the remainder of the audience and crew had fled. Far away outside the tent, he could hear the familiar "Ah am tha Flaming Fist!" call of the town guards as they chased down the scattering thieves and monsters.

Withdrawing a coil of rope from his bag of holding, Onyx bound and gagged the Skald and the Jester together and cast a silence spell over them for good measure. He lifted them up in one arm and walked over to the far pole, against which the body of Anomen rested. Setting down the bards, he laid the body out on its back, placed the priest's nearby head where it belonged, and then pointed both fists at the body. His blessed bracers glowed and blue light poured out of them, resealing the neck and the body's other wounds.

"Die, foul clown of darkness!" Anomen screamed as his eyes popped open and sat up, nearly trying to strangle Onyx. "Oh, it's you...by Helm, my neck aches!"

"It should, you were beheaded. Don't worry, another cure light wounds and you'll be good as new. I got the Skald and the Jester as you can see, but the Blade got away. C'mon, I need you to resurrect everyone else."

"Ah," Anomen nodded, "Then my charming personality wouldn't be why you raised me first? Pity."

Onyx's jaw hung open. Anomen Delryn actually made a joke!

Anomen was rather distressed to find Arra's head also separated, and panicked for a moment before they found where it had rolled it, but soon he had resurrected her and Jaheira and then set about tending to the two rangers.

"Sorry, J," Onyx smiled sheepishly as Jaheira's eyes opened and looked up at him. He continued looking over her and healing her remaining scrapes.

"Think nothing of it," Jaheira smiled, "This is hardly the first time. As long as we're in one piece in the end." As Onyx helped her up, she saw the Valygar being helped to his feet by the other three. "Wow...were you the only one left?"

"Yeah. Close one, huh?"

Jaheira's look became one of shock and contentment. "Nice to hear you finally admitting something like that." She looked around. "We wiped out the entire circus!?"

"Pretty much. Some of them fled, and I'm sure your beau – uh, fine ears can hear the Flaming Fist chasing them around outside."

She smiled at but then looked around again and smiled. "Oh, Onyx, I should have known this would turn into another bloodbath! Look at this! You can hardly see the floor for all the bodies! This was supposed to be a covert intelligence-gathering mention! And you just annihilated an entire circus! In front of the entire town!"

Onyx winced. "At least we permanent reduced the demand for the slavers. Well, if we're trying to bring them down, we might as well start by freeing their last shipments. Let's check out the wagons outside the tent."

"We should, Onyx," Valygar began, "But perhaps we should take care of our new...captives first? They'll wake up soon and we need to get to interrogating them - the mission's success hinges upon it."

"I've got just the ticket for putting them in cold storage," Arra smiled. She cast an Otiluke's Resilient Sphere over both of them, and then began to stretch her bag of holding about it. "Presto!" she handed it to Onyx, who pulled an amulet out from under his armor, tied the bag to it, and then tucked it back in.

The party ran out one of the tent flaps just as a squad of Flaming Fist soldiers ran in. "What happened here, citizens?" a Flaming Fist captain demanded.

Onyx thought quickly. He didn't want to be recognized, but he didn't like to lie to the law when he could help it. "This was one of their acts," he began truthfully. "They invited challengers from the audience to fight them, and fight them they did." Jaheira was holding her hand over Minsc's loud mouth, disguising it as a hug and subtlety keeping him from blurting out.

The Flaming Fist captain frowned. "What I heard outside corroborates that, but..." he peered at Onyx, who had pulled the visor down on his helmet, "Looks like you're the ones who finished the fight," he looked around the mass grave that the circus rings had become. "Well," the soldier seemed to take the hint that Onyx wished to remain anonymous, "I'm going to report that an adventuring-type party led by a paladin survived the brawl; that should suffice."

Onyx nodded politely. "Be advised. Slavery is illegal in these parts, and these circus wagons and filled with the enslaved. Now that the Flaming Fist has been made aware of this situation," he said with an edge of sarcasm, for of course everyone already knew this, but now they would have to deal with it, "They are required to emancipate them immediately," he finished, and the party began to walk out of the tent.

Wary of thieves in the caravan, they stayed together as they went from wagon to wagon, and found them deserted. They went about freeing cages of virtually every demihuman race of slaves: humans, dwarves, halflings, gnomes, and elves of the woodland, drow, sea, avariel, and tiefling varieties.

While his companions were opening cages throughout a wagon, Onyx bashed the lock off a cage of avariel and while helping the cramped elves out, his heart wrenched as he saw one more, a young girl, huddled in the back corner. She had curled into a ball, her face in her knees and her arms around her shins, making clearly visible her back, upon which were no wings, but only fresh scars from where they had recently been.

"Come, miss," he smiled and kneeled down, offering his hand.

She merely looked up at him suspiciously and stayed in her tight ball, shivering.

"You're free to leave this cage now," he tried again.

She looked up again and smiled before her face fell again. "Are you my new master?" she whimpered.

"No, miss," he smiled and took her hand, trying to convince her to stand, "You're free. I have slain your captors for what they've done to you. You are not a slave anymore. You are free. You may go anywhere and do whatever you want."

"Except fly," she began to cry, "They took my wings! They kept me in this cage and they atrophied and then they sawed them off! I'm not free! I can't fly anymore! That's not freedom!"

"What's your name?" Onyx asked.

"C-Cresa," she sobbed.

"You know Cresa, I know someone else like you. A young avariel girl, who was a slave like you and lost her wings...."

"That's horrible!" she wailed. "Why does this k-keep happening to us?"

"Because there are evil men in the world. And that's what I'm here for. To stop them. As I have today."

"In this cage, my mind used to wander and I used to think about all the things I would do when I got out. I always had a dream that a knight would come and rescue me, and I had dreams about all the far-off places I would go once I was free. But now, it doesn't seem like any of it can come true; I'll never get my wings back!"

"No you won't, and neither did this other. Aerie is her name. After I took her from the circus, she traveled with me, and like you, didn't want to live without her wings. But I showed her the world on the ground, and now she's seen many things she never would have otherwise. And now she and I are in love."

"R-really?" Cresa looked up at him.

"Yes. Don't act like this is the end of your life, and don't pine for what is gone. This is your new life. You have been born again, Cresa, and a new world awaits you. Who knows what or who is in your future. Your dreams may or may not come to pass, but you will also come to know things you didn't even dream of. Now, let me take you out of here, and let us see what dreams may come." He gently picked her up in his arms and strode out of the cage and the caravan.

The other adventurers and now some of the Flaming Fist guards were gathering groups of huddled and shivering slavers, many scarcely clothed, in an open space next to some of the wagons.

"What are we going to do with them?" Onyx bit his lip, "We can't very well just leave them to starve."

Anomen scowled, "Now that they're free, they classify as beggars, and I suggest we leave them be."

Onyx looked at the other knight. "I've two minds about this sort of thing - somewhere between you and Miss Nalia de'Arnise, if you will."

Anomen rolled his eyes. He had gotten to know Nalia during their long hours hanging around the Copper Coronet, and during his adventures while in Onyx's party, and had a number of squabbles on this subject with her.

Onyx continued, "For an ordinary grown beggar, who has had ample opportunity to get a job, I've no sympathy, not do the faiths of Torm, Lathander - or Helm or Tyr for that matter - unlike that of Ilmater - which I freely admit to the heavens that I've issues with - require me to. Now, with a child who has barely had a chance, I am less solidified in my thinking; and the same goes for refugees like these, at least until they can get on their feet again - being mostly elves of various stripes, it would be desirable that they could be helped to return to their various homelands - the Cloudpeaks, the Sea of Swords, the Sigil, etc."

"Ho there!" he called to the same Flaming Fist captain, who came into the clearing and began looking over some of the slaves, and trying to figure out what to do with the slaves and the trashed circus they now had on their hands.

"Ah, the paladin. Yes?" the captain asked.

"If my knowledge is correct," Onyx began, "It is the policy of the law of Baldur's Gate and other Sword Coast townships that, in the event of a confiscation of property of a villain or criminal - I think you will find the extensive slave-holding and recent audience-murdering more than merit such status applied to this circus, now ‘liquidated’ anyway, you will find its ringleaders gone - the government generally will auction or sell off said property?"

"That is correct," the captain nodded, and noticing Onyx's slightly disapproving gaze, added, "It offsets the taxes levied upon those who earn by honest means."

"And so it should," Onyx continued. "Given the plight of the former slaves we see here - who are mostly indigenous to other places, far from their homelands, having no family, friends, or jobs in this fair city," he nodded pointedly at the avariel and sea elves, "Might I suggest that the extensive food stores within these wagons first and foremost be used in the immediate feeding of these refugees, the cash money holdings be divided equally among them, and the proceeds from the sale of the rest be done as such, or used by the government of Beregost to arrange transportation for them to the places where their peoples and families live, or they were captured - such as the Cloudpeaks, or the Sea of Swords, or whatever they may say."

"I'll...do my best," the captain nodded.

"Not good enough," Onyx shook his head. "Either declare that you've the authority to do this and will, or fetch me the mayor of Beregost, be he at sleep or feasting or..."

"Look no further!" a fattish, richly robed man stepped into the circle. "Keldath Ormlyr at your service! I've heard what you said just now, and I think it's a capital idea, really, you needn't worry about a thing, until we can arrange transportation for them we should be able to house them quite comfortably - if not privately - at the Temple of Lathander here, where I am actually a regular - say, wait a minute, I know you sir! Weren't you the one who brought in those wyvern heads for the bounty last year?"

Onyx sighed. No use now; and besides, if it helped get the right thing for these refugees, it was worth it. He took off his helmet. "Yes, I am Onyx; and this is more or less the same party of which you are thinking." That, while true, actually served to help keep the mission clandestine, as it made it look more like Onyx’s latest adventure and less like part of a mission arranged by the Harpers or the Order.

"Ah! The Heroes of Nashkel - or Baldur's Gate, between them here, we hear of you as both you know, heh heh - say, there is actually a priestess of Lathander coming to the temple here just now who spoke quite highly of you, sounded as if she'd met you recently, I suggest you go see her - ah, but for now, these slaves, er, ex-slave refugees. Captain! Order your men into these wagons immediately, find the food stores, and arrange them upon tables or barrel-tops or whatever you might find in a convenient manner for consumption by our guests here; have them too bring out any monies - you there! go fetch an accountant! - which we'll need to divide in due time, and as for the appraisal and auction of the other goods, I suppose that best wait til morning. Now, captain, once all have had a good meal here, I want you to transport them - yes, in the wagons, hitch them back up or what have you - around to the east side city to the Temple of Lathander. Now, go to!" the mayor chuckled.

Satisfied that all was well, Onyx thanked him profusely and the party began to walk east to the Temple of Lathander.

"Well, so much for covertness," Arra sighed, "News of a dissolved circus will spread fast, and now your name is attached to it."

"I tried," Onyx shrugged, "But it matters not. It is still unknown for whom I'm working, only that our party - I suspect the mayor'll have recognized you, Minsc and Jaheira - was once again..."

"Responsible for a mass butt-kicking of evil!" Minsc cried. "Word shall spread of our righteous exploits and strike fear into the hearts of bad men everywhere! And the stories shall grow as our adventures continued, and grow and grow as we continue to send our boots into the backsides of evil over and over around Faerun, and still they will grow, and we stories will have to loosen their belts and wear suspenders because they are getting so big and fat, and still they will grow, and the stories will no longer be able to fit through a doorway, and...."

The party listened to Minsc's babbling with varying mixtures of amusement and annoyance, and Arra cut in, "So, any useful information or equipment in the wagons? I found some enchanted arrows to restock my quiver and a few wands and scrolls, but that was about it."

"Same here," Valygar nodded. He dug some priestly and arcane wands and scrolls out of his pack and handed them to those who could use them as they walked along. The others largely concurred, no one had found any weapons or armor better than what they had, and more importantly, no one had found any information on the slavers. That, apparently, was done off the books.

"Um, Onyx?" Anomen piped up a while later, "Isn't the Temple of Lathander to the north now? I think we're passing it."

"That's correct," Onyx nodded, "But we have other business first..."

"...interrogation," Valygar finished with them.

Anomen and Jaheira exchanged uneasy glances. The party continued walking across the dry plains, desert land almost, east of Beregost, and Onyx led them round the far side of an outcropping of rock.

Valygar pointed to two flat places on the stone, each of which had a higher jut of rock behind it, making crude high-backed chairs.

Onyx nodded. "Those will do." He and Valygar began taking out special coils of strong platinum cable, and Onyx unhitched his special bag of holding. "Ready your stunning missiles or spells," he cautioned, and opened the bag upside down.

The Otiluke’s sphere, much larger than the bag, squeezed its way out and plopped to the ground, inside of which could now be seen the Skald and the Jester, who were luckily still unconscious. Onyx took out Carsomyr, whacked the sphere once to dispel it, and resheathed the sword while Arra and Valygar tied the ringleaders to the rocks. Arra pulled a small vial out smelling salts out of a pocket and waved it under the nose of each bard.

"Who the what the where the how the why the when the????!!?!?!?!" the Jester babbled, trying unsuccessfully to move his head side to side and have a look around.

The Skald immediately appraised his situation.

"Ah, so the tables have turned, I see,
We're now mouse and you're now cat;
But your efforts are in futility,
We'll not by charmed, and we'll not rat!"

"We'll see about that," Onyx rhymed. The Jester began chanting a spell, but Valygar pointed a drawn arrow right in his face, overemphasizing the strain of keeping his longbow taught, and the Jester shut up immediately. Onyx nodded and Valygar and Minsc began trying to charm the two bards. They tried time after time, to no avail. Arra tried casting dire charm upon them several times, also to no avail, and then pulled out a wand of charming, while Anomen and Jaheira tried casting domination spells on them, but nothing seemed to work. The Jester was laughing at them the entire time, and the Skald merely sat quiet.

"Your enchantments will not work we are insane!! Yes insane!!!" the Jester laughed.

"Silence, fool!" the Skald hissed.

"I was beginning to fear as much," Arra nodded. "It is true that a mind can be so warped these magics will not work. It seems it is thus with them."

"Then I guess we've got just one option left," Valygar said grimly, drawing daggers from his hip-sheaths and twirling them expertly. "You bards will just have to voluntarily tell what we want to know."

"And what is that?" the Skald smiled faux-innocently.

"Your supplier. We want names, locations, forces," Valygar stated.

"Ah, I'm so sorry," the Skald sighed, "But we just don't know."

Onyx felt his ring of the Aster begin to tingle. "You're lying," Valygar stated flatly.

"Oh no, not at all, we don't even know his name, he just, ah, shows up from time to time with our stock." Onyx's ring tingled again.

"You are lying," Onyx said this time. "You had best tell us."

"Ah, very well," the Skald sighed, "Our supplier is Lord Manshoon III of the Zhentarim. The only bases we know are the ones everyone does, like Llorkh and Zhentil Keep or so forth."

Onyx felt his ring tingle yet again and he sighed. "Don't bother lying," he sighed. "First, I'm going to be able to divine when you do through means of my own. Second, I've seen enough of the slaving lackeys to know they're not Zhentarim. Third, you're a very poor actor."

The Skald scowled in indignation at the insult to his bardic abilities. "Very well. We are supplied by Aran Linvail of the Shadow Thieves, located in Athkatla, in the Docks District; but I'm sure you knew that."

"Lying again," Onyx sighed. "The next time I decide you're lying, it's going to hurt." Valygar walked around behind the Skald and pointed the tips of his daggers upon his shoulders.

"Okay, okay," the Skald smiled, "We're supplied by the Fire Knives of Skullport, under Waterdeep."

"Lie," Onyx stated. Valygar plunged the dagger into the Skald's deltoid and began to twist it. The tiefling screamed horribly.

"Desist!!!" Anomen cried. "This must not continue!"

"We...need to talk about this," Jaheira agreed.

Valygar scowled at both of them, Arra remained silent, and Minsc was simply holding his bow drawn at the bards, lest they try to cast something, while talking to and trying to comfort his hamster. "Cover your ears, Boo and Bebe! Sometimes heroes must do grisly things that little hamsters must not watch!"

"Very well," Onyx nodded, "Minsc, keep an eye on those two." The other five walked around the rock outcropping.

"I don't believe you!" Anomen yelled at Valygar and Onyx. "This is NOT behavior becoming ones such as ourselves!"

"Neither is letting their supplier stay in business," Onyx retorted.

"Well, we'll just have to go about finding him or whoever some other way then," Anomen crossed his arms.

"Let's hear your suggestion," Onyx said.

Anomen stammered, "You know what I mean! We'll have to think of something else! We already have several leads!"

"Yes," Onyx nodded, "But they would waste time following, during which time more will continue to be enslaved, and they might in the end prove no easier a solution than we have here."

"Then too bad!" Anomen stomped his foot, "No matter what, we must conduct ourselves according to certain standards! If we stoop to their level, we're no better or more right than them."

"Spare me the platitudes."

"The ends don't justify the means!"

"I said spare me the platitudes. This end happens to justify these means. How can you put the welfare of these two villains above that of those we saw back at the camp, and the hundreds more than will replace them if we don't act fast?"

"You must not try to make judgment calls, which are fallible, but rather act on absolute principles."

"How about we start with 'don't put the interests of an evildoer above those of an innocent' ?"

"You can't just make it up as you go along! There are rules, Onyx; if you won't abide by those set down by Helm, you must at least think of your own status in the Order! You know they'd never approve of this. It is conduct unbecoming of a knight and it reflects badly upon us all!"

"Actually, it doesn't reflect at all, seeing as how no one will ever know about this."

"Oh, our superiors will hear of this, believe you me. Either cease and desist, and pursue other means of getting our intelligence..."

"...which have all already failed...we tried charming them and others, rifling through their stuff – heck, Valygar did all that before this mission even started…we’ve got the intelligence network of the Harpers behind us and THEY never came up with anything…"

"…or I am through with this mission, effective immediately, and I shall return to Athkatla and Keldorn shall hear of this outrage!"

Arra had been looking grimly at her new lover during this tirade. "You know, Ano, this is also a Harper mission, and...sometimes things like this are done by us." She exchanged glances with Jaheira, who reluctantly nodded. "You don't have to be involved personally. Onyx, you don't have to either."

"I'm not afraid of a tattletale wannabe-paladin," Onyx scowled at Anomen, who scowled back. His gaze softened as he turned to Jaheira. "What do you think, Jah?"

"I...don't know what to think. Yes, the Harpers do such things - though it's not supposed to be known, and I trust none of you to mention it outside this company - but, I...don't know that I approve. It is not...the druid way. It is unnatural. And moreover, Onyx, Anomen has a point - if good will do the same things evil would do achieve its ends, is there really any difference between them? You see now my struggle with a desire for balance, and for good. To the extent good can show itself better than evil, I tent to good. To the extent that it cannot, how can I take a side?"

"That's ridiculous," Onyx dismissed, "You could make that argument about anything - killing, imprisoning - just because evil does something, doesn't mean that thing is always evil."

"Don't think I don't know that!" Jaheira snapped. Onyx winced; the one thing Jaheira hated most was being talked to as if she didn't know something, and he tried to get around such suggestions, not because he felt she was all-knowing, but because it was, pragmatically, unproductive. "But some things simply ARE evil."

"Even assuming this is," Onyx smiled, "Surely you must *balance* it against the evils that will come to pass should we fail in our mission."

Jaheira hung her head. "Yes...you...are right. We must remember the welfare of those we are trying to protect." She clasped her hands over her face, her mind torn. As it was so often torn these days. Struggling with questions of balance. So much of that struggle was for balance in her own head. Torn between her druidic philosophy, and those of Khalid, Onyx, and her good friends. "I...would rather wait here, but I am still with you in this mission, Onyx." She bit her lip as they looked at each other. "I wish this didn't have to be done, but I do approve of it; it is necessary for the greater...good."

"Why!" Anomen scowled. "The lot of you," she shot an accusing glance at Jaheira, earning glares from her and Onyx, and then another at Arra, earning a hurt look from her. "I am reporting to Keldorn Firecam immediately. I am going to tell him everything, Onyx. How you made a public bloodbath out of an 'information-gathering' mission, and the vile, evil methods you are employing now." He got in Onyx's face as he continued to scream, and spittle began flying, clinging to his goatee and hitting the paladin on his clean-shaven face. "I'll be surprised if they don't expel you from the Order," he sneered, "You bloodthirsty, fanatical, Bhaal-tainted, Blackrazor-wielding, torture-mongering vampire-lover!"

"SHUT UP!!!" Onyx roared and Anomen flinched. He and Jaheira each snarled at the reference to Aerie, albeit for different reasons.

"So I shall," Anomen swept his cape back and put his hands on his hips, "Until I get back to Athkatla and report you to the Order, Onyx, and they shall judge you....as are Helm and Torm right now!" He turned and stormed off toward their horses, roped nearby behind the Temple of Lathander.

"Ano, wait..." Arra ran after him. He didn't meet her gaze and kept walking until he got next to his horse.

"I can't believe you're condoning this!" he shouted at her.

"Think of all those people we rescued today! Do you want more enslaved like that!"

"Of course not!" Anomen barked at her rhetorical question while untying the horse. "But we have to fight according to certain principles and rules. The faith of Helm has taught me that, and to stray from it will bring only disorder and ruin in the end. We must work for the greater order, even when our hearts may feel otherwise."

"No!" Arra shouted, "For the greater good!"

"Goodbye, Arra," Anomen grabbed the saddle and was about to hoist himself up when Arra put a hand over his and tried to kiss him on the cheek. He drew away and snorted.

"But what about us?" she began to cry. "I...you said you loved me! And I gave myself to you, and now you're just going to abandon me like that?" her eyes narrowed, and hell's fury began to replace the sorrow she felt.

"It is you who are abandoning me," Anomen claimed. "I thought you understood the world better. I explained the teachings of Helm to you, but I guess you were just nodding along! Deceitful wench, disrespecting my faith, disrespecting Helm! Perhaps if you see the light of his teachings, we shall speak again. I did love you, but until then, goodbye." He hopped up on his horse and kicked it in the ribs. "Giddyap!" he ordered it and began to ride off.

"I HATE YOU!" Arra shouted after him. "HOW DARE YOU CALL ME A WITCH! YOU USED ME! YOU PURITANICAL, SELF-RIGHTEOUS, SLIMY, PHILANDERING, RELIGIOUS-FANATIC BASTARD! GOODBYE FOR GOOD!"

He simply put up a dismissive brushing-aside hand gesture as he rode off across the dusty plain, beginning the long journey south again to Athkatla.

Arra trudged back to the group again, choking back both rage and tears. "I'm sorry," Jaheira whispered to and hugged her while Onyx and Valygar politely ignored her.

"Perhaps we'd best be getting back to the task at hand?" Valygar asked as tactfully as Valygar can, which isn't very.

Jaheira and Arra both sighed. "You get back to it," Jaheira looked at her feet.

"I don't...much feel like it just now," Arra frowned.

Onyx and Valygar nodded and walked back around to the other side of the rock, where the bards still sat bound and silent while Minsc kept his longbow drawn.

"Now...where were we?" Valygar asked faux-innocently as he walked back behind the Skald.

Onyx sat upon a rock in front of the two bards. "It's like this," he began, "I will know when you're lying. Tempt me, and you'll soon find it out the hard way. Answer not, and you'll regret it. Answer falsely, and you'll regret it. Answer irrelevantly, and you'll regret it. Do not these things, and you'll have nothing to regret. Why protect this supplier of yours anyway? Your circus is already out of business, you've no more need for slaves from him, and he'll never know it was you that told, if you're afraid of him. Besides, I can see that you are both tieflings, plane-hoppers, I can't imagine he could hunt you down."

The Jester simply continued to chuckle softly the entire time. The Skald tried to look stoic, but his lip quivered slightly.

"Now," Onyx began, "Who is the man with the katanas, the one we know you met with recently, and does he command the Purple Sun Assassins we've seen?"

Valygar began to press daggers into the shoulders of the Skald and the Jester while Onyx curled his ring-hand under his chin. The Skald gritted his teeth as the pain intensified and finally blurted out "Cyran! Saint Cyran! It is he, and yes, he commands the assassins!"

Onyx felt his ring still cold and nodded to Valygar, who drew back. "And this is the same man who's been running the Cyricist propaganda and recruitment all over Athkatla?"

"Yes!"

"But if I'm not mistaken, he's quite a young man?"

"Yes, about your same age actually, but the look of you," the Skald volunteered. Valygar smiled. It never failed - once you got someone subdued and talking, they usually warm up to it and talk more than they have to.

"But this circus has been around for awhile. Do you or have you had another supplier? And does this Cyran work for him?"

"Yes and yes," the Skald nodded. "The one he works for we know only as the Jeweler. An extremely ordinary-looking man actually, homely face, dirty blonde hair, medium height, small-time-merchant clothes."

"And where is he?"

"His base of operations is a sort of island, but not one that volunteers its head above the water. It is a sort of underwater mountain, upon which an underwater palace is built."

"And where might this be? You'd best give me very specific information."

"You are familiar with the gnoll stronghold, yes? Ah, I see you are. In fact, I suspect you must be, as I begin to think you are the one known as the Hero of Baldur's Gate, or the Last Bhaalspawn, or whatever the other bards are calling you these days. And I am familiar with your exploits at that stronghold, rescuing that Wychalarn out from under a bloodthirsty Thayvian Red Wizard, only to have another mad mage kill her soon after," the Skald smiled at Onyx's imperfect attempts at a poker face. "Go ahead, admit it, likely you enjoy boasting of your exploits. I am a lore-master, a skald, you know, and I probably know as much about your exploits as you, and many things you don't. Pity the information will die with me," he smirked.

"Go on," Onyx stated. "And remember that any extra useful information you may volunteer may be repaid in the form of undue mercy."

The Skald smirked. Paladins were so easy to barter with. "Very well. Perhaps you wondered why and when and by whom the gnoll stronghold was built - not by the beastly inhabitants you wiped out, which had become its namesake, even you must have inferred. I shall tell you."

"When the world was young, she was hot, and lush,
And other races did upon it rule the land;
But then a comet, the Blazer, came down from the sky,
A great ball of ice and dust, it down did slam.
The ancients had built a magnificent palace,
But had built it in a valley-trench, built it too low;
As the comet-ice melted, and the dust filled the sky,
The sky grew sunless and the ocean-waters rose.
With ancient magics did they seal the palace up,
And construct a tunnel 'cross the now-ocean-floor cold;
And out pops this passage where the land still is,
And 'pon that they build the now-gnoll-stronghold."

Onyx nodded. "A flowery telling, but true and specific. And who is there? Surely this Jeweler retains a force for slave-capturing, holding, moving, and his own defense."

"Yes," the Skald answered. "I've not actually been to this abandoned underwater palace the he occupies, but I hear he retains there a large force of constructs..."

"Golems!" Valygar spat. "I hate golems! Cursed magic-made abominations."

"...and undead, led by an ancient and powerful vampire couple,..."

"And vampires!" Minsc cried. "Minsc hates vampires! They are mean and they tried to take Minsc's witch!"

"...and for the slaving raids, before these Cyricists, he had other random groups of mostly-human mercenaries. Some you’ve had run-ins with - The Chill and the Black Talon, for example. It's been awhile since we've dealt with anyone other than this Cyricist faction; I know not whether the others are dead, no longer serve the Jeweler, or merely serve other clients now."

"And how might once find this passage within the gnoll stronghold?" Onyx inquired. "I'll freely admit I am the one you think I am, and I did comb the stronghold, and found no such passages leading deep underground under the level of the ocean."

"As you well know, the stronghold has several large pits on its roof - I believe your witch was in fact chained within one of these when you saw her - ah, don't look so surprised, as I said, I know more details of you and your adventures than you could possibly imagine. Anyway, stand just over one of these - the one Dynaheir was in, actually, and say:"

"KLATOO, VERATA, NICTO. HAIL TO THE KING, BABY!"

"...And the pit's floor shall slide way, and you shall see that the staircase that leads into the pit keeps going past this false floor; and shall lead down, and somewhere under the ground and the ocean, to the palace."

"And this is the Jeweler's only lair?" Onyx raised and eyebrow.

"That I know of. I'm quite sure he hasn't left it since he started sending Cyran to do his negotiation for him," the Skald offered.

"And these Cyricists, what more do you know of them?" Onyx inquired. "Where their Athkatla base of operations is, for example; any other lairs they may have."

"I know little of their Athkatla operations. You paladins always seem to have this idea that all us so-called villains are always in league together. I care nothing of them other than that they supply me with slaves!"

"Supplied you," Onyx smiled. "Past tense now."

The Skald looked dejected. "No matter. I'm sure some of them must reside in this palace, and I have heard that they also have a lair in a mountain somewhere, but which one, or even which range, I've no idea. The assassin squads seem to operate in continuous travel, going here and there to capture and deliver slaves, camping or using inns, making or buying gear as they go, keeping away from bases. That's what makes them so difficult to track down for the likes you and all the other religion-suppression-types, I guess," the Skald smirked.

"When worship includes acts of terror and murder, you may say I suppress that, yes," Onyx smirked back.

“Bah, what do I care of them anyway,” the Skald rolled his eyes. “Anything else you’d like to know, Sir Inquisitor?”

“You said you knew something about me. What?”

“You have a sword in your possession – one of your many, I could list them all, Onyx, you know – the Burning Earth. You found it in Durlag’s Tower, it was taken and sold by Irenicus, but did not travel far before you found it again.”

“And what of it,” Onyx demanded, but he already felt somehow uneasy. The Burning Earth…the one that felt as if it were made for a hand utterly unlike his own.

“Tell me, when one of your witches identified it for you, what words sprang into their minds? Don’t worry, I am familiar with the weapon myself, and I’ll recite them for you:”

“There was a time before Neverwinter was warm and before the great Anauroch was dry...or so it is said. Few relics remain to prove such an age existed,
and fewer still have an identifiable purpose. ‘The Burning Earth’ seems straightforward enough -it burns a victim with magical fire, and a cryptic rune
seems to suggest that the power comes from the ground itself- but whomever constructed it remains a mystery. It looks a perfectly serviceable weapon,
but something in the balance or grip is...wrong. It strains the forearm a touch, and does not fit the hand just right. It doesn't seem to hurt a warrior's
performance, aside from the nagging doubt that the blade was not made for him...or any other humanoid.”

“So you know of my sword, and its lore,” Onyx scoffed, “Big deal. What bard doesn’t?”

“I know more,” the Skald smiled. “Someone is looking for it.”

“Who?” Onyx demanded.

“That even I do not know,” the Skald smirked, “But I’ve heard middlemen seeking it for quite a price. Someone wants it, Onyx. Someone wants it…back.”

Onyx glanced at his ring, hoping it would tingle, but it did not. “Let them come get it,” he scowled and turned his back.

“Now, what about that mercy?” the Skald asked politely as Onyx continued to look away.

“Ah yes,” Valygar withdrew his katanas from their shoulder sheaths, and held them behind the bards, watching the edges gleam in the moonlight. “That’s between you and whoever rules your particular layer of the Abyss.” With a flash, he swung the katanas in wide arcs forward and beheaded them both cleanly. The Skald’s head plopped at its feet, and the Jester’s went rolling along the desert floor, laughing all the way.

**********

11 FLAMERULE 0100
THE SEA OF SWORDS - THE UNDERSEA PALACE

Jarek Bond came to, and immediately noticed that he was tied to the chair he was in. He looked about the room. It was made all of marble, and there were many large windows against the far wall, through which he could see not sky, but ocean. His eyebrows sprang up as he realized he was underwater and saw fish and sharks and giant squid swimming by outside the windows. The air was clean and cold, and deadly silent. There was a table in front of him, and across it, a high-backed chair turned the other way.

Without warning, the chair spun around, revealing itself to be occupied by an extremely ordinary-looking man with dirty-blonde hair, freckled skin, and plain clothing. He held a puffy white cat in one hand and was stroking it repetitively, almost manically.

“At last me meet, Mr. Bond,” he smiled. Jarek heard someone walk up behind him, and though he could barely move to look around, soon felt and saw familiar, slender hands sporting purple fingergails drop onto and rub his chest. “I believe you already know – so to speak - Bucki Ryder. Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Jeweler.”




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