All That Glitters...12

Chapter Twelve

"Oh Lin...Lin, wake up...." Mae'Var slapped Lin across the face. The man lay still, unmoving on the rack. Mae'Var cocked his head at Lin. "Someone throw some water on him."

With a splash, a barrel of cool water was thrown over the man, and he came to with a start. "Wha...?"

"Lin, just before you go, a few things I want you to watch," Mae'Var said, smiling in an oddly unsettling manner. He strode over to the cage with the two children. "Lin. Pick one to die. The other goes free. I promise."

Lin stared at the cage, eyes gleaming with tears. His son and daughter stared back, similarly tearful. The moment lasted for a long second, before Mae'Var broke it. "Hurry up, Lin. Pick one, or I'll kill them both."

"You won't be killing anyone much longer, monster. Your time's up." Lin and Mae'var both turned to see the source of the voice, and they caught sight of what appeared to be a tall elf, wielding a sword that flamed blue as well as a much less spectacular sword in his other hand.

"You...! What are you doing here?" Mae'var shouted, composure broken. "You cannot threaten a guildmaster of the Shadow Thieves this way, underling!"

"Guildmaster of the Shadow Thieves? Renal doesn't seem to think so. You know, papers, Night Knives, Westgate, assassinations...any of those ring a bell?"

Mae'Var's throat threatened to close on him and his heart froze with fear. So he had been found out. Another voice spoke then.

"A quiz, Mae'var," a female voice said. Mae'var tried to discern the source, but it came from none of the females behind the leader of the group. It appeared to be coming from...the sword? "You're a smart man, right?" the sword asked. "So...cooked geese, dead ducks, and ex-guildmasters of the Shadow Thieves. What do they all have in common?"

"Justice has come for you, Mae'Var," the leader said.

"Ah," Mae'var said, with as much force as he could put into the words, "Outsiders that Renal hired. You must be some kind of ‘hero' to choose to make a speech before killing me." Mae'var's hand crept toward his sheathed shortsword.

---

Kal smiled at that. "Ah, but such speeches don't have to be useless. You see, I've gotten you and all your companions to move slowly while my companions finish spellcasting. Have fun!" Kal immediately dropped to the floor. A swarm of insects and two balls of light streaked over his head. Realizing how he'd been tricked, Mae'var yanked out his sword, but then was attacked by a hundred stinging insects, getting in his face and stinging all around his hands. His bodyguards were likewise attacked, and began clawing futilely at their faces to try and remove the insects. Both of the holding enchantments then took effect, paralyzing three bodyguards into immobility. A priest wearing the purple sunburst of Cyric tried to chant some kind of prayer, but Kal was reasonably sure that the regular "PTUI!" sounds of the Cyricist spitting out insects would render it rather ineffective.

Kal got to his feet just in time to join Minsc's charge. First in line was Mae'var, still coughing, spitting, and waving his hands in the air, and one of his bodyguards. The bodyguard actually had a sword out, but Kal batted it aside easily with his off-blade and thrust Cel forward in a stabbing motion. The bodyguard's flimsy buckler had no chance and tore apart just as a burst of electricity from Cel kicked the guard's body over a table and into the wall.

Minsc delivered a forceful kick to Mae'Var's rear - So he really does do that, Kal thought - propelling him toward Jaheira and Yoshimo. He then stepped forward and swung Sarevok's sword toward the other active bodyguard, who stumbled away from the blade with insects stinging his eyes.

Mae'Var looked up and caught a faceful of club, falling backward on to a slashing blade. As Celestis blasted through the heart of the Cyricist, Minsc took the head off the last of the bodyguards. Mae'var fell on his back, bleeding out on to the floor. The rest of the party advanced to surround him as he tried vainly to get up, hands slipping in a pool of his own blood.

---

"Half of Bayle's price...a substantial reward indeed," Yoshimo said with a sincere smile, as they left the Shadow Thief Guildhall.

"I'd imagine you'd be more relieved to be off the targets list, Yoshimo," Kal replied.

"That I am, and it is no small relief. I am glad to know, however, that I have contributed, however indirectly, to the acquisition of an amount of gold that will aid you in your quest."

"Unfortunately, I don't think Bayle will be seeing any coin of this. We are under-equipped, and I have no desire to go charging in to see Imoen, just to be re-captured because we're still using battered mundane junk. We'll pay a visit to the Adventurer's Mart tomorrow."

"Who're you calling battered mundane junk?" Cel sniped.

"All right, everything except one or two notable exceptions, whose names are not worthy of mentioning," Kal said teasingly.

"Hmph," Cel said, dimming her glow sulkily.

"Anyway, right now I'm exhausted, and I don't feel like coming across another of those random bandit groups that attacked us like yesterday. Yoshimo - nearest inn?"

"The Sea's Bounty, my friend. In fact, only a few steps away. A convenient place to rest, if any. The conditions are not much worse than those in the Den of the Seven Vales. Down those stairs," Yoshimo said, gesturing.

The Sea's Bounty was a decently well-kept establishment. Beyond that, Kal didn't notice, as a gaunt man immediately got up from his seat and approached. The man had dirt stains across his skin, his hair was greasy and matted, and he flaked mud as he walked. He had a two-handed sword secured across his back, and wore a battered suit of leather armor.

"Jaheira, my dear, how have you been? It has been so long since we last talked," the man said in a cultured tone of voice that did not suit his dirty and messy appearance at all.

"I am sorry...do I know you?" Jaheira asked, glancing over the man.

"Ah, perhaps my appearance deceives. I am Baron Ployer. Of the Calimshan Ployers?"

"I...do not think I have ever met someone with that name before. Is there anything else which might help my memory?"

"Of all the indignities...! You forget my very ame[i/]? I am Baron Ployer! You and your Harper allies ruined me! I was convicted on charges of breeding and selling slaves, and the courts took all my money and possessions! You did all that to me and you do not even remember?"

"Of course I remember, Mister Ployer. I merely wished for you to say it, and loud enough for everyone to hear."

The man turned a bright, bright red. "You...you DARE? Was not ruining me enough?"

"Mister Ployer, I wanted you dead and not just ruined!" Jaheira snapped. "The courts did not agree, but they gave us the next best thing. It is good to see that you live in poverty, but it is tragic that you have not even tried to make the best of your second chance! Not only an old slaver, but an unrepentant one. You are scum, Ployer."

"You will pay for that comment, Jaheira! I did not bump into you by chance, I tracked you down! You ruined me, slandered my name, and I will have my revenge!"

"I don't think that word means what you think it does, Ployer," Jaheira said with a smirk. "It's not slander if you actually were trading in slaves."

Ployer sputtered incoherently, then managed to spit some words between gritted teeth. "That is beside the point!"

"Well no, actually it is the entire point. Here's another word you may have had trouble with: illegal. It is used in a sentence like this: ‘Baron Ployer was forced into destitution because all of his businesses were illegal'. Another word you may be unfamiliar with: scum. As in, ‘Baron Ployer is unrepentant slaver scum.'"

"ENOUGH!" Ployer roared. "It is time for you to suffer, Jaheira!"

The familiar purple sparkling trails of dimension doors suddenly appeared at the Sea's Bounty. Three mages began chanting in unison, and a ball of sparkling light shot into Jaheira's side, staggering her.

For the second time since he'd come to Athkatla, Kal leapt forward and slammed someone against the wall. "What was that spell, slaver?" Kal snarled at him.

"A little curse I cooked up just for you, Jaheira! I sleep beneath cracking timbers tonight, but the thought of your slow, painful death shall warm me!"

"You are...*cough*...the [i]worst kind of scum, Ployer!" Jaheira shouted at him.

"Maybe, maybe - but I won't be the one coughing my entrails up at the end of the day." The smile the man had on his face was almost grotesque.

"You have five seconds before I rip your throat out, slaver. Cure her!" Kal demanded.

"I don't think so," he said as his form became hazy and insubstantial. The wizards were teleporting away, and had taken him with them. Kal slashed at his fading image with his claws, but all they did was tear gouges in the wooden wall.

"Damn that Ployer! We should..." and Jaheira's voice cut off as a massive cough racked her body. Wiping the blood away from her mouth, she forced out the remaining words. "We should...probably try and track him down, this kind of custom curse can likely only be removed by the casters, or...or by him."

"Not such a bad idea, but that's ‘we' as in ‘the rest of us' and not ‘we' as in ‘including you'. You are going back to the Den of the Seven Vales to get some rest."

"I am not a fragile toy made of glass! I will be...just fine!" The effect of her defiant statement was somewhat diminished by the fact that she collapsed into coughs immediately afterward.

"You must have a different definition of ‘fine' from mine," Kal said. "No arguments."

"You are a tyrant." Jaheira shook her finger at Kal scoldingly.

"Perhaps, but one with your best interests at heart. It's been a long day and now you've been cursed - you need rest. You are going to the Den of the Seven Vales, and you are going to sleep. Period."