26. Of Mice and Minsc (Hamsters and Rangers Everywhere)
The enormous bald man sat on a bench outside the lone dive of a farming hamlet.
"My witch always said that life was like a box of sweets!" he informed the smaller man sitting across the bench. "You do not know when Evil may have hidden a brussel sprout amongst them, and the Righteous Snacker must be vigilant!"
A squeak was heard from his pocket, and the other man rolled his eyes, a bit of drool escaping from the corner of his mouth, presumably with surrprise at this spectacle.
"I may not be a smart man, but I do know what justice is!"
The other man looked over, and spoke. "Hi! Nice, place, huh?"
"...and when my witch was captured, that was not justice, I would stake my very hamster upon it! So I started running. I ran out of a forest! And past a lake! And I just kept running..."
The other man continued with his line of thought. "...people throw rocks at me. Big rocks, little rocks, round rocks, square rocks, sharp rocks, gray rocks, brown rocks, black rocks, red rocks, clean rocks, sandy rocks, dirty rocks, rocky dirt..."
"Then they could use a swift kick in the morals, my friend! Evil is as evil does!"
---
After returning to Beregost late the previous night, retiring weary but satisfied, and collecting the generous bounty on Bassilus the next morning, the party had trekked further south, to Nashkel. The tiny farming town had barely come into sight across the fields ahead of the party when Viconia's elven vision espied a figure approaching.
"Large rivvel-jaluk," the drow hissed through clenched teeth, pulling from her belt Bassilus's enchanted hammer. "A large man with a stupid but murderous gleam in his eye."
Onyx remarked, "Sounds like my thus-far typical would-be assassins." As usual, he had his bow already in hand, and strung an arrow as Khalid and Imoen did the same. Jaheira loaded a sling and Garrick leveled his crossbow.
"Wow," Imoen gasped while staring down her arrow, "This guy really looks berserk!"
"C-careful," Khalid cautioned, "C-cloud just be happy to see us."
The man came into few. He was just as Viconia had described, a fairly largish guy with slobber all over his chin, and a fanatical look about him. He bore down on the party, raised his arms, and shouted.
"Hi, I'm Noober! Nice place, huh?"
Two longbows, two slings, a shortbow, and a crossbow immediately pointed down the tilled earth, and the six adventurers sighted. The man was obviously of limited capacity. Very limited capacity. Perhaps no capacity at all. He stared at the party members like a puppy - his slobbering tongue adding to the effect - and bounced up and down just like a child getting presents, for a child's mind he surely had.
"So, killed any monsters yet?" he asked, flinging spittle everywhere. A bit caught Viconia's cheek and she snarled ferally. Only an admonishing gaze from Onyx, a silent reminder of her conditions for remainging in protective company, prevented her from bashing opening the man's skull with her hammer and extracting whatever little brains might be within.
"Ever been to Baldur's Gate? I've been to Baldur's Gate," the man asked excitedly, tapping Onyx on his armor and giggling when it gave exactly the metallic ring one should expect.
"The proverbial village idiot," Jaheira groaned. "You know, I think I'd prefer another assassin."
"Ugh. I think I stepped in something," Noober lifted a foot of the cow-pattie he had planted a large foot in.
Viconia snarled. "Perhaps you should insert your foot into your mouth nevertheless."
"Everyone in town used to throw rocks at me and tell me I was annoying," Noober explained, moving his fists toward his own face to help his new friends grasp what he was saying, which they had no problem doing. Indeed, Viconia was one hair from doing the same.
Onyx grimaced slightly, but turning to his companions, shrugged and said, "Well, may as well get about our business..."
"What time is it?" Noober inquired.
"...of killing this dog? Gladly," Viconia smiled at the paladin, but he only chuckled back, for her habit of lacing death-threats into her speech had by now rendered itself moot in its consistency.
"I haven't had a conversation this long, well...ever!" Noober cried with glee.
"Shocking," Jaheira mumbled in perfect deadpan.
"What's that big weapon for?" Noober pointed at Viconia's warhammer.
Through gritted teeth the drow hissed, "For your misshapen skull."
"Those colors look pretty stoopid on you," Noober told the Sharran.
"Hooboy," Imoen sighed, "This guy sure did pick the wrong party member to bug."
Unfortunatley for the thief, Noober perked up and bounded over to her, babbling, "I once knew this guy named Dilby. He threw rocks at me too. Are you gonna throw rocks at me?"
"Actually," Viconia snarled out loud, "I don't throw them, Noober, but I am a crack shot with a sling."
"What about now?" the dimished capacity fellow asked, this time pestering Khalid.
Viconia looked at Onyx. "You said your Lathander believes in mercy. Does it not extend to my nerves?"
"What about now?"
Viconia continued, "Onyx, elven ears are more sensitive than those nearly-deaf rounded growths on your head. You do not understand."
"What about now?"
Onyx sighed. "Pull up your hood then, Vic." As much as I hate to say it, a good idea anyway as we go into town. Or you, my drow friend, will receive more thrown rocks than Noober. And I am loathe to find myself between you and the local citizenry, trying to keep each of you from harming the other without doing harm myself. Man, this paladin stuff ain't easy...if I ever write a storybook about it, it's not going to whitewash or simplify the knighthood-business at all...how come Robin Locksley never had to bother with this sh-....and I should have found a damsel to kiss about 10 pages ago. It's not fair.
"What about now?"
After Onyx sighed and took a few steps, the party gladly followed his lead past Noober, who unfortunately kept tagging along like a happy puppy and repeating his last question at all-too-frequent intervals.
The first building along Nashkel’s main street - only street, really - was the 'Nashkel Inn', a succint description as well as a monkier, and the party members, many of whom were weary after the long journey from Beregost, and, more importantly, hoping Noober might not follow, decided to duck inside.
“What about now?” Noober asked yet again as he slipped through just before Garrick almost managed to close the door on him. Viconia shot the bard a murderous glare for this failure, and he gulped audibly.
The inn was modesty sized, and clean and cozy. Fine with me. As long as it isn’t full of assassins, fanatic-paladins, paranoid delusionals, pickpockets, slobbering drunks - in other words, the staples of Beregost nightlife.
The young man's simple hopes were dashed when a figure who could barely be made out through her splintmail and huge, red-winged helmet to be a human woman strode up to them and began muttering something. Onyx was already reaching for his sword when he recognized the words of a distinctly offensive clerical chant, and drew out his weapon, but just before bringing it down upon the woman, she clanged her club and shield together and a magical tingle fell over him, and he inexplicably felt himself stop midswing. His brain tried to force his arm down, but it would not budge, it simply hung in midair. He couldn’t even feel the moderate strain of holding a sword aloft that he should have been able to.
With horror what must be happening dawned on him. He had seen Viconia cast this one before. 'Hold Person'. He couldn’t even move his eyes in their sockets, but out of the corners he could see Khalid and Jaheira also frozen as they held a longsword and quarterstaff aloft. He was reassured by the sounds of Viconia chanting behind him and the sight of an arrow, presumably Imoen’s, flying past his shoulder. His heart sank when the arrow harmlessly bounced off the cleric’s shield, and she cast the same spell again, immediately cutting off the sound of Viconia’s voice behind him. A magic missile flew past Onyx’s shoulder, presumably from Garrick, and slammed into the cleric precious moments after she’d completed that second spell. Because Garrick a few seconds later stopped talking, as he had a habit of doing incessantly even during battle, whether chanting a spell or not, Onyx could only assume the bard had been immobilized as well.
The big-helmeted priestess cackled triumphantly. “It may be a touch unladylike, but I’m gonna split yer throat, I am!”
Wow…delivering the theatrics after attacking. These assassins are starting to get better. Not that that says much.
Hey wait...a cleric slitting somebody’s throat? Don’t their vows preclude...
As if angry with Onyx’s skeptical thoughts and trying to bash them out of his mind, the cleric started clubbing the side of his head, and he could do absolutely nothing about it as his ears rang and his head pounded with dull pain. Being so helpless…it almost hurts my pride more than my head.
“What about now?” Noober suddenly bounced forwad, clinging to the cleric’s arm and slobbering all over it, ruining her wind-up for another clubbing of Onyx’s head.
I’m being rescued by Noober? I’d almost prefer the lesser humiliation of the quick death. Now when I go before Lathander, he'll probably fall out of His throne laughing at me.
“Aie!” she screamed and easily elbowed him aside. “No one messes with Neira, least of all a pathetic slobbering simpleton like you!”
She swatted at him with her club, but he actually was quite good at evading her blows. Judging by his comments on thrown rocks, I imagine he’s had years of experience dodging melee swipes as well.
Then Onyx could hear the inn’s front door slam open behind him, and the very floorboards of the room shook as if with giant's footsteps - the paladin was practically expecting to hear a booming 'Fe Fi Fo Fin, I Smell the Blood of a Paladin' - and then into his field of vision strode probably the largest man he had ever seen. Probably even bigger than the psycho who took father. He must have been at least seven feet tall, with an armspan to match. His outfit was a suit of rugged, beat-up splintmail overlaid with various straps and bands of weather-worn leather. Even through his multilayered adventurer’s wear it was obvious he was extremely muscular, and he had a massive two-handed sword and high-poundage composite longbow down the length of his back to attest to that as well. Stanger stil though was his head. He wore no helm, and was utterly bald, but had a large purple tattoo printed in a thick circle that ran around the right side of his head, over his temple, forehead, and even eye. His face beneath it was large-featured - a jutting jaw, thick brow ridge, and largish nose - and would have been brutish had it not been for his strangely innocent smile. It was not so unlike Noober's, really.
But by far the strangest thing of all was on his shoulder. A small brown hamster was perched there, peering down along with the man at Neira, who ceased batting at Noober and looked up at the huge man. Despite her oversized helmet, her gulp was audible.
She began a spell, but the enormous man’s large right hand shot out, clasped around and silenced her mailed throat, and lifted her several feet off the ground with a throttled ‘gack!’ on her part. Her feet kicked helplessly, and her captor’s left hand reached out to pull the hideous helmet off a witchlike woman’s face, and let it fall to the ground with an ominous clang.
“DON’T,” the man bellowed, peering into the eyes of the woman he had brought far up to eye level with himself, “Call people pathetic slobbering simpletons! People call Minsc that, and it makes Boo VERY ANGRY! And when Boo gets ANGRY, Minsc goes BERSERK!”
Minsc...Boo...? Onyx’s thoughts raced inside his frozen head. Multiple personalities? Or…no….it couldn’t be…. As if sensing the paladin’s thoughts, the furry hamster on the enormous man’s shoulder turned around to peer down at him quizzically.
Just then Noober reappeared in Onyx’s field of vision, poking him on the shoulder, and babbling, "Gee, you sure are patient…”
Of course I seem patient. When you’re held completely rigid, you most often do.
“…I've run out of things to say…"
You know, I may have just met the largest human on the planet, but somehow, what you just said surprises me more.
As if goaded into proving it, Noober zipped out of Onyx’s field of vision, and the paladin’s attention returned to the giant holding Neira nearly at the ceiling.
“...and just attacking people like this when they walk into a tavern has the Stench of Evil about it, little woman - and Boo has a veeeeery sensitive hamster nose for such things!”
“I - URP - “ Neira gasped, “Let’s - URP split the bounty. 340 each - URP…”
680 Gold? Onyx thought. Wow, if someone owned stock options for my head, they would have been seeing very handsome returns these past few days.
“What?” the large man grew quite indignant. Probably not a good think for Neira’s help. “You are a bounty hunter? Killing innocent people for money? This is very, very evil, Boo, isn’t it? Just like that Greywolf fellow who refused to help Minsc rescue his witch, because Minsc has no money! No, instead he said he was off to skewer some sculptor. Why does he not like art? Minsc loves to finger-paint! And Minsc shall bring the Boot of Justice to bear on...”
Just then, as this large fellow was ranting, and his temper seemed to be flaring up, he seemed to squeeze Neira’s neck tighter and tigher with each word, as if without meaning to, and then suddenly there was a CRACK and the cleric’s head flopped limply to one side.
“Ooops!” the man gasped and let her body fall fell like an armoed rag-doll to the floor. “Yes yes, Boo, Minsc knows he must control his temper when not in the heat of battle. But we get so very angry at eeeeeevil!”
The enormous fellow then but his hands over his face, dry-sobbing. "Ah, a hero who can not control his strength is no hero indeed, and must shed hero's tears! But wait, how can they be hero's tears unless he is a hero? Ahh, very clever Boo! With a little more control, great heroes we shall be!"
Onyx’s longsword dropped to the ground with a loud clang, his arm loosening, and then, nearly losing his balance with the sudden return of the necessity of keeping it himself, he sighed with great relief. He looked around to see his companions unfreezing one by one. Khalid also dropped his sword, Jaheira nearly so with her quarterstaff, Viconia cursed in her native tongue, Imoen yawned, and Garrick yelped with surprise.
The party members exchanged glances, their faces unhappy with the realization that their six-strong party had nearly been overcome by a single cleric. Onyx looked grave and solemn, Khalid pale and nervous, Jaheira brooding and angry, Imoen was white as a sheet, Garrick looked like he was about to faint, and Viconia’s face seethed with hurt pride, which she tried imperfectly to hide.
“Thank you, my friend,” Onyx craned his head up - something he wasn’t used to doing - to address the large purple-tattooed man who had saved them all. “We owe you great thanks. I am Onyx, these are Khalid and Jaheira, that is Viconia, Imoen, and Garrick. And you, sir?” Onyx extended his thankfully-gauntleted hand, and braced for a mighty handshake.
The hamster on the man’s shoulder squeaked a few times, and then the massive man, as if talking to it, mumbled. “I agree Boo, they look to be friendly.” He then turned toward Onyx, grinned broadly, and shook the paladin’s hand. Onyx grimaced, barely holding his own in what was more of a quick arm-wrestling match than a handsake. Thank Lathander I didn’t have Imoen shake his hand!
“Greetings, friends!” the man boomed. “We are Minsc and Boo. We have traveled far to explore this land, but now my charge Dynaheir has been taken from us.” He frowned like a child who’d lost its mother. “’Twas gnolls. Minsc hates gnolls! Once we have tracked them I will beat sense into their dog-heads until they release her. Accompany us and bards will sing the deeds of Minsc and Boo…and friends!”
"I'm impressed," sarcasm practically dripped form Viconia's tongue, "Such a small village, with two idiots."
"He said he was from out of town," Onyx winked at the drow, who rolled her eyes.
“You bet,” Garrick laughed to Minsc, “*ahem*,” Viconia and Jaheira grimaced as he seemed about to launch into song, “Oooo, and when the heroes to Nashkel came / a large man they met with hamster tame / and there to rescue fair Dynaheir / they journeyed far and fought without fear…”
"Correction," Viconia groaned, "Three."
It really is too bad the two must ornery party-members have the most sensitive hearing, Onyx thought with a glance to her and Jaheira.
Across the tavern, Garrick's song caused a man to suddenly laugh madly, and run around like a headless chicken before leaping out the window.
Jaheira and Viconia snarled with pain and glared at the bard, but Imoen slapped Garrick’s shoulder playfully. “Hey! Not bad for off the cuff, Garry!”
Trying his best to ignore Garrick and hoping his other allies wouldn’t kill the bard, Onyx asked the large man, “Excuse me, are you speaking to a rodent?”
His face betraying no hint of offense, but rather eagerness, the large man picked the hamster off his shoulder and present it to Onyx’s face, cupped gently in his massive hand. “Boo is my faithful animal companion, and more than he seems!” he declared. “And I am Minsc, ranger of Rasheman, and the stinky dogs of evil have captured my witch! Let us rescue her together!”
After catching approving gazes from all of his companions save Viconia, Onyx smiled, “It’s a deal. I could hardly refuse, especially after you have already saved our lives.”
Minsc bellowed heartily. “Take heart fellow adventurers, for you have curried the favor of Boo, the only miniature giant space hamster in the Realms! My friend and companion since my h-h-h-head wound, he will lead us to victory! Onward to the Gnoll Stronghold in the west! Tarry not! We must go soon!”
This statement was anticlimactically punctuated by a yawn from Imoen. “Woo! I’m getting’ a little sleepy!” she exclaimed.
Garrick echoed her yawn, quipping “A yawn is a silent shout.”
“Morning soon enough?" Onyx grinned sheepishly at the ranger.
"Oh yes it is! Boo needs his beauty sleep. See how silky his fur is? But yip in terror this night, gnoll-dogs, and piddle upon yourselves in fear, for in the morning Hamster Justice makes a house call! Right Boo?"
The resounding squeak was valiant indeed.
