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The Case Of The Missing Halfling


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#1 Laufey

Posted 23 November 2002 - 10:53 PM

”Oh, to the Abyss with it!”, Violet cried as her twelth attempt at the spell misfired. This time, instead of producing a glowing ball of magical energy, she had covered the opposite wall in great gobs of green slime. Now that could probably be of some use in a combat situation, but some of her previous efforts certainly wouldn’t. Pretty sparkling faerie lights, a giant cheese, a pile of letters on brown and official looking parchment from the Amnish Department of Taxation and Bodily Harm. All utterly useless, except for the cheese that could probably be a serviceable snack later on. She stuck some of it in her beltpouch. The one time she had actually conjured the desired Magic Missile it had been about the size of her thumbnail, and it had fizzled at once. By now the green goo was starting to slowly dissolve the wall. While this could be considered a certain aesthetic improvement of the room, Violet didn’t think Hendak the Innkeeper would approve. Yes, she and her friends had saved him from slavery, but liquidizing his property, even if said property was as dingy as the Copper Coronet probably went beyond the limits of his gratitude.

Perhaps I’m just not meant to be a mage, she thought. I bet this sort of thing never happened to Elminster. Violet fiddled irritably with the braids in her beard. Some of them had unraveled during her quest for the perfect Magic Missile and she was certain she looked positively frizzy.

Wonder what would happen if I asked Korgan to help me rebraid my beard?, the dwarf thought to herself. That was enough to make her giggle naughtily to herself.

”He’d probably faint”, Violet said out loud. ”But he is kind of cute when he gets that stunned look on his face. Oh, well. Back to work.”

Violet studied her hands a bit nervously. She knew perfectly well that her spells had a tendency to work a bit – randomly. Nobody had ever been able to explain why, though some of the monks back in Candlekeep had muttered about ’unnatural wizardry’. She could guess all too well what that meant.

”Means I shouldn’t be a wizard just because I happen to be a dwarf”, she muttered. ”Oh, no. Dwarves aren’t good enough for fancy stuff like magic. That’s for tall folk, like humans or snobby elves. Sure, gnomes can be mages, but does anyone ever take them seriously, I ask you? And dwarves, well dwarves can keep running around hitting each other with axes. Because they’re so bloody good at it, and we all know that’s all they’re really good for anyway. It’s not as if they’re really people who matter. Just let them do what they seem to be happy doing, and never ask if some of them might want to do something else entirely.”

She sighed and stuck her hands in the pockets of her robe. Funny. She didn’t remember having any spare spell scrolls left. She’d thought she’d sold all the ones she couldn’t use after leaving Irenicus’ dungeon. This one must have been left behind by mistake. It was so crumpled up she could see how she had missed it. Idly she pulled it out, trying to decipher the writing. It was a rare scroll, one she had never seen before, and yet the casting of the spell did not seem too complex. She was certain she could manage it, if only she could figure out what the spell was supposed to do. The runes were arranged in a spiral, winding their way slowly towards the center, where there was a drawing of some small animal. A cat? A rabbit maybe?

”It’s a ’Find Familiar’ scroll!”, Violet gasped with sudden understanding. This was so totally, enormously marvelous! A magical companion to aid her with her spells, to be her friend and guardian. The dwarf found herself jumping up and down with joy, crowing delightedly and clasping the scoll to her bosom. Eventually she managed to calm down enough to prepare for the casting.

I wonder what it’s going to be, Violet thought as she chanted the magic spell. A cat would be good, but I’m sure I can do better than that. A magical Pseudodragon! That would be something. Noone could say I’m not a proper mage if I had a dragon familiar.

In the center of the grubby floor a magical flower of incredible sweetness and beauty had formed. The petals opened slowly, tenderly, releasing a soft white light. Violet watched it, almost unable to stand still. And then the flower was gone, and in its place there was a small, black animal with a pink and twitchy tail. Familiar and wizard stared at each other.

”A RAT?!”, Violet screamed. ”This can’t be right! Who ever heard of a rat familiar?”

”A DWARF?!”, the rat screamed simultaneously. ”Seriously, come on! Who ever heard of a dwarven wizard?” Pulling a crystal ball the size of a robins egg out of the blue and pointed hat he was wearing, the rat tapped it irritably with one pink claw.
”Personnel?”, the rat said in a clipped, business like voice. He seemed to be having a conversation with somebody inside the crystal ball. ”No, I bleeping well don’t have the time to be put on hold! Get me Kirke RIGHT NOW buddy, or I’ll come back up there and slowly nibble you to death, and let me bleeping well tell you, when I say slowly I mean Hundred Years War slowly, so you’d better shape up and fetch her, laddie, or…Oh. Yes, ma’am.” By now the rat’s voice had undergone a remarkable transformation from bullying to fawning in under three seconds. ”No, ma’am”, he was saying. ”Just thought I’d check ma’am, it being such an unusual client and all. No ma’am, I’m not questioning your judgement. Not at all. Yes ma’am, I like my tail just fine. Yes. Yes. Quite. Certainly. Bye.”

”Well”, the rat said, a bit nervously. ”Glad that’s all cleared up, then. Pleased to meet you.” He held out a paw, giving Violet a wide and somewhat insincere grin at the same time. It made him look less like a regular rat, and more like a criminally insane rat trying to sell used carts to trusting little old ladies. Violet quickly put both of her hands on her back.

”And just who might you be?”, she asked in her frostiest tone of voice.

”Glad you asked”, the rat said. He was about twice the size of a regular black rat, but otherwise of regular appearance. The black and beady eyes, the twitchy nose and quivering whiskers, the wormlike pink tail, they all fit the picture. The deep blue and sharply pointed hat did not, and neither did the fact that he was sitting on his hind legs, gesturing animatedly with his front paws. ”I am in fact your new Familiar, appointed by the Committee of Reliable Animal Protectors.”

”C.R.A.P.?”

”Exactly. Hey!” The rat stared at Violet rather haughtily. ”There is no need to be rude”, he said. ”I happen to very dedicated to my work, so there. I just so happen to be a card carrying member of the Society Of Dimensionally Outgoing Frontline Familiars.”

”Sod Off?”

”Hmmph. Very funny. I swear, you bleeping wizards never are satisfied. It isn’t enough that we are magical, talking animals, now you expect us to do word puzzles. Well, if that’s the way you’re going to be, then I guess I can just go home.” The rat crossed his paws across his chest and turned his back on Violet.

”No, no”, the dwarf said, trying her best not to laugh. ”I’m sure you’re a terrific famililar. What can you do? Can you turn yourself invisible? Pick locks? Cast confusing spells on our common enemies?”

”Hah! Childs play!” The rat’s nose was twitching even more by now. ”I am a creature of great and mysterious powers, too mysterious for your limited brain to understand.”

”Meaning, I suppose, that you can’t actually do anything useful.”

”I can too! You’ll see. For one thing, I’m indestructible.”

”You are?”, Violet said. This sounded interesting.

”Oh, yes. All rats are, as a species. You know how it’s said that when the world is finally blown to bits by wizard wars and magical fallout, all that will survive will be the rats and the cockroaches? And the tax collectors of course.”

”Yeess…”

”Well, there you are. Rats, as a species, are indestructible. And since I am the quintessential Rat…” He held his paws out in a ’ta-da’ gesture. Violet was seriously unimpressed.

”All right”, she said, smoothing her pink dress. ”I’ll give you a try. Just a try, mind you. Let’s go for a walk and see what you can do. If you manage to make yourself useful you can stay. If not, you can go back and try to explain matters to your boss. Miss Kirke, I take it? I doubt she would be pleased.”

”Oh fine”, the rat said shrugging his shoulders. He hastily scrambled up along Violet’s dress and settled himself on her shoulder. ”You’re sure one tough customer, lady.”

”The name is Violet”, Violet said, firmly grabbing the rat and depositing him in her pocket. ”Violet Rose Petunia Skullcracker. Want to make something of it, Squeaky?”

”I’d have to be bleeping crazy to do that”, a small voice said from the pocket. ”And don’t call me Squeaky.”

”What should I call you then?”, Violet asked as she opened the door and slowly walked downstairs, grabbing her staff on the way out.

”Anything! I don’t know. Ratticus? Peter? The Great and Powerful Rat?”

”Mr Cuddly?”

A stifled groan was the only reply. Violet smiled to herself. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Two hours later.

”PLEASE, can I go inside the Harper compound?”, Violet wheedled, as she favored the doorman with her best doelike eyes and batted her eyelashes suggestively. ”I won’t break anything, honestly.”

”No, you can’t”, the doorman hissed. ”And who said this is the Harper compound anyway? That’s supposed to be a secret.”

”I really can’t remember”, Violet said airily. ”But since I know already, you might as well let me in. Otherwise I might have to ask a lot of random passing strangers if they know how to do it.”

”NO! Don’t do that! Look, I can’t let you in. Rules are rules.”

”Even though me and my friends helped a wounded man get back to this place only last night? Even though I am a personal friend of a famous Harper?”

”Which Harper would that be?”, the doorman asked, sounding interested for the first time.

”Jaheira.”

”Jaheira?! Then I definitely won’t let you in. That woman is as unstable as a dragon with hiccups and any friends of hers are bound to be complete raving loonies. Get lost!"

”So much for being nice”, Violet muttered and walked off, giving the tall orange building an evil glare in the process. ”Now what?”

”Told you that wouldn’t work”, the rat’s voice said from her pocket as she turned the corner. ”The man won’t budge voluntarily. And I really don’t see why you’re so keen on helping that crazy wizard find his thieveing halfling friend anyway. I mean, look at the tattoos! And the voice! The man was practically foaming at the mouth. He’s crazy enough to go stick his head in a sleeping dragon’s mouth and then shout ’Boo’.”

”Actually, that sounds more like Minsc”, Violet remarked, thoughtfully fingering her beard. ”And while Xzar may be insane and Montaron totally mercenary, I do owe them both a favor. They did help me out when I first met them. We’ll just go inside, find Monty and then slip out without bothering anyone. Easy as pie.”

”Hello? Have you been paying attention at all? That guard won’t move, and if you attack him you’ll have to fight about a hundred seriously upset Harpers. Now tell me, does that sound like your idea of a good time?”

”Of course not”, Violet said, shrugging her shoulders. ”Which is why we won’t fight him. You’ll see what I mean, just as soon as I can remember where I put that cheese.”

The guardsman was a patient man, not given to sudden bouts of random violence. But there was something about the satisfied smirk on that dwarf’s face as she returned that really made him wish he could abandon his principles, just for once. She was a weird one, all right. He had seen female dwarves before and knew about them having beards. But a waistlength golden beard decorated with bright pink bows just didn’t fit his image of a dwarven warrior of either sex. And the shockingly pink dress was just as bad. It clung to her, drawing attention to body parts that would have been safely hidden by chainmail and lots of leather on any other dwarf he had ever seen. Coupled with the beard it was vaguely disturbing. The dwarf was staring at him in a challenging manner.

”I won’t fight you”, she said ominously.

”That’s nice”, the guard said, sounding a bit condescending.

”I won’t magic you either.”

”Lucky me.”

”Are you going to let me in?”

”No.”

”Suit yourself”, the dwarf said. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath, causing all sorts of interesting movements inside her dress. Then she stuck something yellow inside her ears. ”This is an old dwarven drinking song”, she said in a very loud voice. ”Coincidentally, it is also an old dwarven working song, fighting song and courting song, as well as a lullaby. Dwarves usually don’t have much appetite for variety.” And she started singing.

”One hundred bags of gold in the hoard,
One hundred bags of gold
Work and smile
Add to the pile
How many bags of gold in the hoard?

One hundred and one bags of gold in the hoard…”

Twenty minutes later…

Three hundred and fifty eight bags of gold in the hoard,
Three hundred and fifty eight bags of gold…

The guard was slowly getting more and more desperate. The dwarf showed no sign of stopping the infernal, tuneless noise. No, she just stood there, still as a rock with her hands on her hips. She was grinning.

One hour, fortyfive minutes and twelve seconds later…

How many bags of gold in the hoard?

Twothousand fivehundred and thirtyfour bags of gold in the hoard…

The guard felt a string of drool dribble down his chin. He really, really wanted to kill that dwarf. But as she had promised, she hadn’t actually attacked him, so that would be Wrong according to the law. Only he wasn’t certain he cared anymore.

Two hours, twenty minutes and seven seconds later…

Fourthousand and seventythree bags of gold in the hoard,
Fourthousand and seventythree bags of gold…

And then the singing stopped, and there was blessed silence, and the guardsman’s heart rejoiced, for he thought himself free at last.

”Oops”, the dwarf said, giving him a wicked grin. ”I think I lost my count. And here I was just about to get to the most exciting bit. Oh, well. Since I don’t want to spoil the experience for you I’ll just start all over again. I’ve got plenty of time.

One hundred bags of gold in the hoard,
One hundred bags of gold
Work and smile
Add to the pile
How many bags of gold in the hoard?

There was a shrill cry of utter horror and despair as the guard tossed his spear to the ground, jumping up and down on top of it. The fact that he was also tearing out clumps of his hair and that the muscles around his right eye were twitching violently gave him a somewhat deranged appearance.

”All right!”, he cried, throwing the door open. ”Go on. Do what you like, anything. Just please be QUIET!”

Violet nodded politely and walked inside the Harper Compound, removing the aged cheese that had served as her earplugs as she did so.

”Like I said, easy as pie”, she said proudly. There was no answer. Violet patted her pocket impatiently and a very sleepy looking rat stuck its head out.

”Are we done yet?”, Not-Mr-Cuddly said, as he unplugged his ears and started nibbling on the cheese.

”Almost. But first we need to find ourselves a missing thief. That could be hard.”

A short while later, Violet paused before a giant metal birdcage. It was almost as tall as the roof, there were trees and flowers inside, and one small bird. It flitted nervously from branch to branch, watching her. There was something odd about its eyes. They seemed far too intelligent. She gave it a considering look, and then reread the letter she had found inside a chest in one of the other rooms. It referred to birdseed, and to thieves. It all seemed very straightforward.

”Oh, good”, Violet said brightly in a very loud voice. ”I guess that bird has to be Montaron. Poor fellow, he really should know better than to steal from Harpers.”

”What are we waiting for ?”, the rat asked. ”Grab him and let’s go. I could do with some more of that cheese.”

”In a moment. Just one more small thing to take care of first. I thought I noticed something in that room with all the locked chests.”

A new day was dawning as Violet calmly walked out of the Athkatlan Harper Headquarters. She looked tired, there was some dust and cobwebs on her dress from her search but she was triumphant. In her hand she gently cradled a small songbird, and she proudly handed it to the skinny wizard with the tattooed face who was waiting for her on the streetcorner.

”Well?”, he asked her impatiently. ”Did you find Montaron?”

”Oh, yes. It would seem that he was polymorphed into this bird.”

”Good, good! Give him here then, I’ll soon get his proper shape back.”

Violet handed the bird over, surreptiously letting her familiar out of her pocket at the same time. As Xzar cast his spell the bird disappeared and in its place there stood a halfling. Not Montaron though. This halfling was a woman, she looked distinctly unfriendly, and she brandished a knife almost as long as herself at the surprised wizard. This halfling was an assassin, and her target was right in front of her.

”And death it came on wings of song…”, she started to sing.

”Now!”, Violet shouted, rudely interrupting the piece of melodramatic assassination poetry. The halfling stared at her in surprise and scratched her head. Then she scratched her nose. Then her back, her belly, her legs. Her scratching grew more and more desperate, her face redder and redder.

”How…How dare you!”, she squeaked. ”This is an outrage! The Harpers…The Zhentarim…we are in the right, don’t you see?” She gasped in surprise, staring at the red blossom spreading across the front of her tunic.

”All I see is a fool trying to scratch herself with a really sharp dagger”, Violet said quietly. ”Oh, and I don’t like people who try to take advantage of me. If they should happen to raise you from the dead, you might want to mention that to your superiors.”

”I’m really sorry Xzar”, Violet said after she had helped the wizard prop the body of the assassin up against the door of the Harper Compound. ”I found Montaron’s body in a locked chest in there. I managed to drag it over to a window and toss it out. You should be able to find it on the other side of the house. If you’re lucky you may still be able to have him raised, though I did think he looked a little bit green around the edges.”

”I’ll see what I can do”, the necromancer sighed. ”Monty is a robust little devil. He could probably make it.” He smiled a rather nasty smile and rubbed his hands. ”And if not, I can always use his liver for spell components”, he said and walked off without another word of thanks.

”That man is really, really disturbing”, Violet said and shook her head.

”You said it baby”, the Definitely-not-Mr Cuddly said. He had climbed on top of her shoulder again and his claws were digging into her bare shoulder. ”So how did you guess that bird was a spy?”

”It was just all a bit too convenient. Finding all those clues, all of them pointing in the same direction. I don’t trust in clues all that much.” She wrinkled her nose. ”Besides, Montaron had already started to smell. You’d have to be totally gullible not to guess the truth. Now, as for those fleas you infested the assassin with. Are you completely sure they won’t get in my clothes?”

”You wound my bleeping feelings!”, the rat said. ”Those are magical golden fleas, they are. Summonable by this clever and cunning rodent familiar once a day, able to drive the most stoic of enemies mad with the itching they cause. Neat, huh?”

”Yes, yes. But you still aren’t sleeping in my bed.”

”Oh, come on…I promise not to…” The rat paused. ”I can really stay then?”, he said, nuzzling her ear. ”I can be your Familiar? For real?”

Violet smiled and petted the rat.

”You can stay”, she said. ”And from now on your name is Sir Fleabottom, knight of the Order of the Infinite Halfling Compost. We’ll make it ’Fleece’ for everyday use, I think.”

She waited for an answer and it took her a moment to realize none was forthcoming. The rat had fainted with pride.
Rogues do it from behind.




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