In The Cards

The trick to being a successful adventurer is seeing opportunities. They are everywhere, thought they are sometimes disguised as problems. And sometimes they may even be disguised as a lunatic, a killer and an undead, but even so they can still have their uses.

Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'

Davaeorn's abode held both gold and jewels, as well as several nice spell scrolls. But perhaps more importantly, it also held his apprentice, a pale and trembling youth who looked ready to soil himself as the adventurers came upon him. "You...you killed Davaeorn?," he squealed. "Oh...please don't kill me! Please oh please oh PLEASE! I'm just his apprentice, I swear! I don't know anything! OK I know a little, but I was only his student! Honest! I can...I can help you! Yeah, I can give you information! Ask me something! Go on, ask me anything!"

Zaerini raised her eyebrows. "Anything?" she asked. "All right then. What is your name?"

"Er…Stephan, but…"

"What is your purpose here?"

"I told you, I'm just Davaeorn's apprentice! I studied under him, and that's it! I didn't know anything about anything! Well, I know a little, but just ask and I'll tell you!"

"And now for the really important questions," the bard said, her voice lowering to a purr. "What were the Iron Throne doing here in this mine? What did Davaeorn tell you of his plans? And what do you know of his immediate superiors?"

The young man was trembling by now. "The mine? Um...I...I think they were going to try and look like the saviors of the day, riding in with their stores of iron to equip the troops, or something like that. With the bandit raids and the rumors about Amn, the Iron Throne figured that the Dukes of Baldur's Gate would think they needed arms and ore quickly in case of Amnish attack. They...they figured they could get exorbitant prices, or better yet, sanctions against competitors and an easing of trade laws for themselves only. A quick way to install themselves as an underground power on the coast. That's all I know about it, I swear!" He paused to draw breath.

"Davaeorn ran this place for the regional bosses in Baldur's Gate. They used some strange potion to taint iron already stored, used Mulahey to keep new ore from being mined, and had the bandits raid any incoming trading caravans. It doesn't take long for perceived shortages to embellish real threats. You know all of this if you are the one who killed Mulahey. And his superiors…I honestly don't know much about them! All I can say is that the regional leaders of the Iron Throne placed Davaeorn here! There are three of them, I think, but I don't know their names! Davaeorn was getting orders from someone else too, he complained about it a lot, but he never said a name or anything to me! Honest! The main building for the Iron Throne is in Baldur's Gate, somewhere in the south west of the city, but I have never been there! I tell you true! Can I please go?"

"Get out of here," the half-elf said with a cold smile. "And you'd better run fast too, if you value your hide at all."

"You would let him go?" Edwin asked, as Stephan ran off, sobbing violently. He sounded a little disapproving. "How do you know he won't try to ambush us?"

"I don't. But he's such a little wretch, I just couldn't bring myself to harm him. Besides, I doubt he's any threat to the six of us."

The adventurers found a hidden elevator that quickly brought them back to the top level of the mine, and they wasted no time in finding the slave they had spoken to earlier concerning the river plug. Apparently Rill had already passed this way, bribing his way past the guard captain with the money Rini had given him earlier, and then freeing the slaves. This one man had remained behind in order to help deal with the plug.

"Well, this is it," the bard said as she hauled out the key she had found on Davaeorn's body. "Once the plug opens, everybody had better be ready to run real fast." Then she noticed Yeslick's mournful look. "Yeslick? What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," the old dwarf sighed. "It's just…look, lass, may I do this deed myself? This was my mine, and the home of my kin, if anybody should bring this doom upon her it feels right that it should be me."

"Of course," Rini said, handing the dwarf the key. "You go ahead. And…I'm sorry."

"That's all right. It needs to be done." The dwarf inserted the key into the lock, muttering quietly to himself as he twisted it back and forth. And then the plug opened, and the water burst forth, exploding into the tunnel like a living being. The adventurers ran before it, the frothing water hot on their heels, only just barely able to make it out of the tunnel before the flood caught up with them. Zaerini was the last one out, and as she scrambled up the final ladder leading out of the mine she drew a deep sigh of relief. Finally, she thought. I can do without any more stress today. Then she emerged into the glaring daylight, only to face a very unwelcome sight indeed.

Her companions were standing in a sort of semi-circle, looking rather apprehensive. There was good reason for this too, considering that they had a crossbow pointed at them, as well as a very nasty-looking wand. The massive fists of the large zombie didn't improve matters either. Oh no! Zaerini thought. Not these guys again! Honestly, how do they manage to turn up everywhere? They're like a bad joke! Or a plague.

Xzar's grotesquely tattooed face was split by a wide grin, something that didn't make him look the least bit reassuring. "Hello, hello, hello, my pretty!" he said, giggling. "Aren't you a welcome sight! We've been looking everywhere for you."

"Yes," Montaron growled, slowly moving his crossbow back and forth as if he was trying to aim at everybody at once. "Ever since you trapped us in that stinking latrine pit after making our own bloody zombie almost kill us."

"Urrgh," Abduh said, looking as abashed as a zombie could. Not having functional blood he couldn't blush, but he did scrape his toes quite a great deal and stared at the ground.

"Don't talk like that to Abduh," Xzar admonished, waggling his finger at Montaron. "You'll hurt his feelings."

"Feelings? WHAT feelings? He's a zombie, not some little princess!"

"He's a good boy and he tries his best. And if you're mean to him I'll make sure the…the rabbits hear of it. Yesssss…. The rrrrrabbitsssss…."

"Er…excuse me?" Imoen said with a winning smile. "I can see you're real busy and all, so maybe we could just leave."

"URRRRGHHH!"

"Forget it, squirt!" Montaron scowled darkly. "You lot have cost us a great deal in time, money, and not to mention pain. We're not going anywhere until we get some repayment, and neither are you."

"That's right!" Xzar giggled, his eyes glittering enthusiastically. "Pay…day…Payday! Oooh, that's nice! Steady pay, every day. And we pay…and pay…and pay. I once worked as a combined babysitter and House Wizard for the Great Old Ones Under The Sea, did I ever tell you that?"

"Nooo…," Zaerini said in a very careful voice. "I don't think you did." But I have a feeling you will.

"Oh, it was grand, it was! Such sweet little tykes they were too - tasted great on toast!" He leered. "Those were the Small Young Ones of course, and there were millions and millions of them. Their parents never missed them, so many die before they hatch. But the others…oh yes, the others…they grow, and they grow, and they spawn more and more, and they will DEVOUR THE EARTH AND ALL WHO WALK UPON IT! AYE, THEIR SEED IS STRONG AND THEIR SCALES ARE BRIGHT AND SHINY!"

"That sounds a bit like fish," Edwin remarked.

Xzar calmed down and his face took on a slightly sulky expression. "Maybe to some people lacking in insight. But I know better." He twirled his wand between his fingers and pouted.

So if the Great Old Ones are fish, then the Small Young Ones would have to be…great. Just great. I'm conversing with a man who's boasting about having babysat caviar.

"Lass?" Yeslick said, sounding very concerned. "Do you…do you know these people?"

The bard sighed. "Not as such. We just seem to run into each other."

"URRRGHHH!"

"Oh, except for Abduh there. Him I've hated since childhood. Mind you, he's grown both more dashing and more articulate lately."

"Uuurghh?"

"Oh yes. Most definitely. Would I lie to you?"

"Urrrggghhh…" Abduh said and scratched his head, clearly deep in thought.

"Enough!" Montaron snarled. "We know ye've been inside the mine, and we know ye've got information we need about the Iron Throne. Ye're going to give it to us, or die painfully and slowly, and don't think I'm not tempted to kill ye first and ask questions later. The wizard may be mad, but he's a good necromancer so it could be arranged." Khalid moaned quietly and turned an interesting shade of gray that almost matched Abduh.

"Oh I am, I really am," Xzar said in a silky voice, batting his eyelashes at Rini in a very disturbing manner. "I could flay you, and drain you of blood, and stitch you up with these tiny pretty little stitches I know, and you'd be the loveliest little zombie imaginable."

"Try it," Edwin said in a dangerous voice, "and I'll flay you and make boots out of your mottled hide. And then I'll sell them to the person with the smelliest feet I can find."

"Not now!" Zaerini hissed and nudged the Red Wizard. "They've got the upper hand." Then she turned to Xzar again. "Thanks, I'll pass," she said in her driest voice. "Just ask your questions."

"Right," Montaron said. "Is it the Throne that's behind the mine scam and the bandit raids?"

"Yes it is," Rini said. She twirled a lock of her flame-red hair absentmindedly around her finger, as if she were concentrating deeply. "They set it all up. Oh, and I almost forgot…they're blaming it all on the Zhentarim."

"That's not fair!" Xzar complained loudly, shaking his head. "Just because we're Zhents that doesn't mean we're behind everything bad in the Realms!"

"No?" Jaheira asked.

"Oh no. Not the strange and mysterious Turnip Field Circles, at least. And definitely not those people who disappear for days and claim to have been abducted by elves." He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I wouldn't mind getting abducted by elves myself. Sounds like fun, with all those strange…experiments…"

"The Iron Throne in Baldur's Gate is led by a man named Reiltar," Zaerini said helpfully. "He's the one in charge of the entire operation, him and his son Sarevok."

"Sarevok?"

"Yes. Big guy, glowing eyes, really hideous spiky armor. You'll know him once you see him. I think he's been having a barrel of laughs over how he's set you Zhents up, at least that's what I heard. But I could be wrong, I guess. Maybe he's a really nice guy."

"Ha!" Montaron sneered. "We'll see about that when we meet him." He bared his teeth in what he no doubt meant to be a sinister smile. It made him look like he had a severe bellyache. "Nobody sets the Zhentarim up and gets away with it. I'll be wearin' Sarevok's guts for garters before the month ends."

"Right," Zaerini said, trying very hard to suppress the image of the halfling thief in garters. "Best of luck to you. Can we go now?"

"Hmpf," Montaron said. "I suppose. Rightfully we should kill ye all, but I suppose we owe ye one. Don't even think of trying to trick us though."

"Trick you? I wouldn't dream of it."

"Byyyeee!" Xzar giggled, waving. "Have fun now, don't forget to write, remember to wear your warm socks when it's raining and never to let the rabbits know your True Name. Never, you hear me?" He snapped his fingers under Abduh's nose. "Come on, boy. Heel!" The zombie obediently trailed after him, and after a few moments Montaron followed with a final, warning scowl.

"Do you think they actually have a chance to kill Sarevok?" Imoen asked once the trio were no longer able to hear her.

"Are you kidding?" Zaerini said, her golden eyes sparkling with mischief. "He'll flatten them in two seconds, and it's no more than they deserve for threatening us. But if by any slim chance they should be able to get to him, then I still win." She grinned widely. "And serve Big Brother right too, for sending all those stupid assassins after me. Let's see how amusing he thinks it is to get plagued by fools."