Rush Of Blood To The Head, part 5.5.

Rush Of Blood To The Head, part 5.5.

“Well?” I ask hesitantly, sliding my hand in her hair and making them even more tangled up than before.

“Well, what?” she quirks her brow, amused.

“Well… how… err… was it?” I blush, feeling quite abashed.

“How was it? You have never asked me something like that before,” she points out with a reason.

“See, I have never done that while lacking a soul,” what was intended as a joke, does not really sound like one, “so, I wanted to know if it has any effects…”

“I…” she hesitates.

“The truth, Jaheira… please, I can handle it,” I whisper encouragingly.

“It is… different. I mean – physically it is as good as it was, but… I… I do not feel you emotionally,” she averts her gaze after speaking these words.

“Then it is the same as for me,” I sigh, turning away from her to lie on my back and stare at the ceiling, “one more reason to hunt down Irenicus, and quickly…”

We both lay silent and soon my thoughts slowly shift from the recent discovery of negative side effects of my soulless state towards the Goldander’s task and how are we going to approach it.

“Jaheira?” I ask suddenly.

“Mmmph?” she replies dreamily.

“I need to go for a little walk,” I say, rising from the bed, “it won’t take long.”

“Where to? You need to breathe some fresh air, perhaps? You will not find it here, in the Underdark,” Jaheira lifts her head from the pillow and looks at me inquiringly.

“Heh, I just need to tell some things to Imoen,” I smile in reply, “don’t worry… by the way… interesting, the air here is relatively fresh and breathable, considering our… exertions… I wonder…”

“Well, I would expect them to have at least some sort of ventilation shafts if they do not want their guests to suffocate,” she muses before dropping her head on the pillow again, “and do not stand in the doorway when you speak with her, you will catch a cold from all that draft.”

“I won’t,” I chuckle before leaning over to kiss her tenderly on her still sweaty neck, “thank you for caring.”

“Mmh,” she mutters into the pillow as I leave the room.

 

Imoen opens the door after my third knock on the heavy doors, doesn’t look like I have disturbed her from the sleep, even though Viconia’s loud protests about disturbances seem to suggest otherwise.

“I see that you too have had enough creativity to make yourselves a decent place to sleep,” I note, looking at the construction of the beds and see Viconia raising her head from the pillow to glare at me angrily.

“Wow! Bro, you’re alive!” Imoen exclaims with joy and throws herself around my neck.

“What the hell are you talking about, Im?” I try to get loose of the pink whirlwind that almost knocks me off my feet.

“She is talking about the simple fact that these stone walls are not so impenetrable by sound as you and Jaheira probably thought them to be,” Viconia explains with a diabolical grin on her lips.

“Err…” I am wishing for the floor to open and swallow me, but that doesn’t seem likely to happen.

“Whoa! And look Vic – he’s still able to walk too! Gee, I guess that good, old Jaheira has passed out then, huh?” Imoen does not relent that easily.

“Eh… no… she does not tire out so easily… umm,” I am starting to regret my decision to come over, “actually, I wanted to speak with you, dear sister… alone,” I drag her in the hallway, shutting the door behind her.

“What’s so important that it can’t wait until tomorrow… I guess it is something important, otherwise you wouldn’t have left Jaheira alone,” Imoen mumbles.

“Well, I happen to have a plan for tomorrow and you need to know about it before we speak to Goldander again,” I say and lean closer to her and whisper the details in her ear.

“Whoa! Are you sure?” she asks with a mischievous smile.

“Yep. And don’t tell anyone about it before we speak to him in the morning. Not even to Vicky,” I wink to her.

“Sure, you can bet on me! You know me, I can keep my lips sealed like no one else does, trusty keeper of secrets – that’s me!” Imoen twitters cheerily as I sigh in desperation and leave her to return to my room.

“Oh, Theo?” Imoen asks innocently as I place my hand on the door handle, “if the two of you plan more activities during the night, would you mind turning the noise levels down a bit? Jaheira can be a bit loud, y’know… and you are not far off, too…”

“Care to tell that to her in person?” I smile in return, “come, she will only be glad to hear it…”

“Umm… on the other hand, I think I’ll rather get some well deserved sleep,” Imoen giggles and disappears behind the doors of her room, leaving me standing in the hallway, shaking my head.

 

We gather together in the small common room of the inn, waiting until everyone has finished their respective morning preparations. Edwin reappears as the last one, he doesn’t look particularly well – his back seems to be bent in a weird manner and his neck is rather skew as well.

“Gnomes. I hate gnomes. But most of all, I hate these ridiculous gnomish beds, they deserve to suffer for putting a man through such inhuman torture,” Edwin rambles, not noticing our stares, “What? What are you laughing about? And how comes that none of you have suffered from the same undeserved fate as I did this night?”

“Edwin, how many beds were there in your room?” Viconia asks with an evil grin.

“Why do you pester me with such insignificant questions that do not require at least minimal exercising of my more than remarkable mind?” Edwin sneers, “By the way, the answer is two, Drow.”

“And why did your more than remarkable mind did not suggest you to push them both together, forming one large and comfortable bed?” Viconia teases.

“Err… uh…” Edwin looks incredibly silly while looking for some kind of excuse, “foolish Drow, they were bolted to the floor… (Yes, that ought to do it… and they would be really smart not to press this matter forward or else…)”

“Now that you have finished the exchange of pleasantries, may I suggest that we go and see Goldander?” the voice of reason - also known as Jaheira, suggests.

“Are you telling me that we are going to do the bidding of that ridiculous blackmailing gnomish bastard?” Edwin asks incensed, “I must say, I find that to be a humiliation, one that this Red Wizard is not going to take lightly.”

“Eddie, I already have a plan,” I say as we leave the inn, “let us go and talk with him first.”

“What plan?” Jaheira asks suspiciously as we step outside of the inn.

“I’ll tell you all about it after we have talked with Goldander, I promise,” I reply and she seems to be satisfied with my reply.

Goldander is already awaiting us at his small office, doing whatever tasks mayor of a ghost town might need to undertake…

“Ah, I see you have returned. I trust you slept well?” Goldander inquires politely, provoking a stream of unintelligible Thaywian insults from Edwin.

“We slept well enough, Goldander,” I reply with a polite smile, “now, to the task at hand – where must we go to find this beast?”

“You have made the right decision in choosing to aid us,” the gnome smiles, “The passage is to the Northeast, guarded by one of my best breachgnomes - he will let you pass once you get there. Take this– a Stoneshape scroll… it is linked magically to the stone of the cavern. When you have killed the beast, read it to collapse the cavern down upon it – return afterwards and I will give the Light Gem to you.”

“Very well, Goldander,” I nod before turning my attention to the large portrait of a rather chubby looking gnome behind Goldander’s back, “say, is that one of your ancestors, mayor?”

“Why, yes! I’m glad that you asked,” Goldander turns around to face the picture, “it is none other than my grandfather and the proud founder of our fair granithome – Rondalig Blackenrock. He was quite an adventurer in his days and there are many heroic tales about his deeds… let me tell you one that might particularly inspire you towards the heroic completion of your own task…”

“Eh, we’re kinda in a hurry, Goldander,” I interrupt the infatuated gnome, “now, I believe there is a monster, waiting to be slain…”

We turn to leave the gnome still sunken deep in the memories as he continues to gaze upon the portrait of his fat ancestor…