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Rush Of Blood To The Head, part 4.9.


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#1 Guest_Theodur_*

Posted 16 September 2003 - 05:10 PM

Rush Of Blood To The Head, part 4.9.

My eyes have not adjusted with the darkness in the hallways of the asylum yet, when a familiar voice, one that I hoped never to hear again, addresses us…

“Ah, there you are. I see that you have weathered the storms of this place with reasonable pluck and health. It does me a whole lot of good to see you alive,” Saemon Havaerian’s voice says.

“Where are you, traitorous scum? Come closer, so I can kill you!” I shout in anger.

“But, Theodur… a single moment of hesitation will not alter your course. I wish only that you listened in my words, for they might prove crucial to the survival of you and your friends,” I can vaguely make out Saemon’s form in the shadows, he decides not to come closer, “I offer advice to foster a trust between us, and you may determine the value of it as you wish. It is simple enough for the moment, and might save you in the long run.”

“Speak, but it better be something valuable or else I will not hesitate to kill you,” I spit out these words.

“Irenicus is a power, indeed – his repertoire of spells is a marvel to behold. You would need an army to face him, and luckily there is one to be had. The inmates of this place are a resource that can be used. Release them and their anger and frustrations will strike at Irenicus. That is my suggestion, and I leave the workings of it to you. Upstairs is where your army awaits - use it, or you will perish,” Saemon finishes and before any of us has had a chance to retaliate, he is gone, disappeared in the shadows…

“We can not trust this pirate,” Jaheira says, “but in this case, he may have a point. Theodur, the mages upstairs are powerful and they could make all the difference in the fight to come. And I believe, we were going to free…”

“Yes… yes, Edwin. We better get him out too…” I reply, “I hope there will be a way to get him and the others out of their cells.”

“I agree, if not useful, those loonies at least will make additional targets,” Viconia adds coldly, “anything that might prolong our lifespan is useful, I think.”

“This way,” Imoen orders us to follow her, “I think we better not go in that central hall… he might be in there…”

“He is in there… I feel him…” I reply to her quietly, “or is it that I feel my own soul…”

Imoen leads us through the dark corridors, until we reach a stairway that leads upstairs to end in the very same room in which Irenicus’ trap snapped upon us… how long ago was that? I have lost all sense of time, while in this place… it could have been days, maybe even a week – I can’t tell.

The room is not empty however - luckily for us it is neither Irenicus, nor Bodhi who await us. Instead, an angry looking dwarf is looking at us with suspicion…

“What? What the hell are you doing here? You should be in your cells with the rest of the wackos! Lonk the Sane takes care of you, but you had better show some respect in return to him! Everyone gets locked down tonight, there are too many people getting agitated,” the dwarf rambles, “Always happens when the boss experiments. Makes them angry, I guess.”

“Could you kindly open the cells of the inmates, dwarf?” I ask him calmly, trying out the non-violent way first.

“Now just you wait a moment! Do you know what would happen if you released these people all at once? You're one of them, what would you do? Individually they can be bullied around, but all together? They get too excited to control!” the dwarf does not seem to like the idea.

“Aww, Lonk… don’t ya recognize me? It’s me, Imoen!” Imoen steps out in front of us, “won’t you please open the cells of the others… pretty please?”

“Imoen? Sweet, little Imoen? But why do you want me to open the cells? Irenicus will punish me… again,” the dwarf sighs, resigned.

“We could get rid of Irenicus, with help of the other inmates… wouldn’t you want that?” I ask teasingly.

“You think you could do that? Well… that’s a new way to look at it. I don’t really like this Irenicus much - he’s been outright rude to me on occasions. I think Wanev was a much better director, a shame what Irenicus did to him. I think, I will help you… just wait here and I’ll round up the inmates and lead them here. Then I’ll be gone from here… I better wait for the outcome in some safer spot,” the dwarf wisely concludes before running of the corridor, holding a set of keys in his hand.

Soon he returns with a group of odd looking people in tow, the arguing and rambling is already going on in full force… Lonk gives us a supportive wink before he disappears out of the door.

“Well, that was not the glorious rescue I imagined, but nevertheless I am moderately content about being out of the cell (trust these simians to handle something with reasonable amount of style),” Edwin Odesseiron sounds very thankful indeed, “I suppose you now are in desperate need of my unsurpassable skill to defeat that poor excuse of a mageling (a pathetic and disgraceful insult to our profession, that’s what he is).”

“Err… yes, something like that, Edwin…” I am starting to remember exactly why I found Edwin’s boasting so irritatingly amusing during the time of our travels together.

“And would you also mind telling me exactly what are the reasons for your hostility towards this Irenicus? The abduction of that pink-haired mageling-wannabe and all the pleasures you experienced back in that dungeon in Athkatla? Or… is there more? The screams I heard from the laboratory during the last night were…”

“STOP! Shut up, Edwin! I don’t need another reminder…” Imoen starts to sob and I glare at Edwin.

“Well, Edwin… perhaps the simple fact that Imoen and I both lack our souls currently, would be a pretty darned good reason to crave a little vengeance on Irenicus,” Edwin gulps hearing my words, “and we really would appreciate a real help from you instead of an empty boasting… why don’t you convince those other loonies to join us in the fight against Irenicus?”

Edwin completely misses my sarcasm and is a little annoyed, as he does not realize what Imoen and Viconia are laughing about.

“Certainly, nothing like good old-fashioned Thaywian diplomacy a la Edwin Odesseiron… pay close attention simians, they will be eating from my palm before you can blink an eye,” Edwin proudly states and turns his attention to the bickering crowd.

Jaheira meanwhile is talking with the little girl - I think her name was Dili. Shortly the little girl leaves together with that unfortunate young woman who can see through the planes… young Dili is holding Aphril by the hand and leads her outside.

“I hope they can make it to the ship, that Captain Golin seemed to be trustworthy – when he hears that we sent these two, he will take them aboard. Just in case, I handed them some gold too…” Jaheira sighs.

“Yes, they could only get hurt even more if they were to stay here… let’s hope they make it… good thinking, dear,” I smile at her, but any further conversation is interrupted as suddenly we hear multiple voices starting magical incantations and soon the air around us engulfs in the swirly mist of magic…

“Hold! STOP, I SAID!” I bellow as loud as I can until every eye in the room is fixed upon me, “What’s that all about? I thought we had a common goal – to defeat Irenicus. What’s with all the bickering?”

For an answer, four of the insane mages point accusing fingers at Edwin, who is looking at them with an absolutely innocent expression on his face.

“He was rude to my doggies,” says Dradeel, the mad elven mage.

“He stomped on my pretties… pretties, piled up high to the sky…” Naljier Skal adds.

“He insulted my grandma’s patented pudding recipe,” Wanev shouts.

“He was disrespectful and refused to bow down to Cyric,” Tiax squeaks.

Well, the last one I can at least understand, I think before turning my attention to Edwin… “Really, Edwin… just how many people can you manage to insult in a space of five minutes?”

Edwin opens his mouth to argue, but I silence him by continuing on with my speech… “Now, if we can all agree that Irenicus, not Edwin is our common enemy, perhaps we can do something about it?”

Shouts of confirmation from the mages are the response to my speech and Wanev offers to cast a simple teleport spell to transport us to the floor below… Our spellcasters quickly proceed with the protection magics and after that Wanev casts his spell… a momentary blackness and a little feeling of nausea are the side effects that accompany the teleportation spell, but it all passes quickly as we find ourselves in a large hall, filled with empty glass containers and other experimental accessories and devices. Irenicus sits at the lone table at the side of the room and is deeply involved in scribing something in his journal. But he is all too aware of our arrival, as he turns his head towards us and the stare of his cold, blue eyes fixes upon my eyes… there is no trace of fear in his eyes.

But I suspect there is plenty of that in mine…




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