In The Cards

Considering how many people seem to want my blood no matter how friendly I try to be, it's a real relief every time I meet somebody I can actually deal with differently. Of course, in some cases it's me wanting their blood, but that's something else entirely…

Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'

"Not another step!" the stranger growled. "State yer name, and what ye are doing in this place!" Zaerini gave the self-proclaimed 'Tomb excavator' a cool look. He was an ordinary-looking young man, with no particularly memorable features except for a slightly hunched back and a squint.

"I have a better idea," she said. "Why don't you start out by telling me who you are. You look just a little bit too tall to be Durlag, and if you're not him I doubt you have any right to accuse me of trespassing."

"Oh, clever," the stranger sneered. "I'm not the dwarf who's been dead a couple of centuries. Well spotted. I'm Riggolo, the greatest Tomb Excavator ever. Well, apart from Miss Bust." His face took on a dreamy look.

"Miss who?"

"Don't you know anything, you stupid girl? I'm talking of Miss Largest Bust, the most famous Tomb Excavator of all. She's wonderful. She can run, she can jump, she can fight, she can find healing potions hidden everywhere, and she always wears the hottest outfits imaginable…" He was starting to sweat by now.

Zaerini was not particularly impressed. "Running and jumping?" she said. "What's so special about that? I've looted a dungeon or two myself, I bet I'm as good as she is."

"No, you're not!" A fanatical gleam crept into Riggolo's eyes. "Nobody is! You're just jealous! Yeah, that's it! You're jealous because you're not a real woman like Miss Bust!" He made a gesture in front of his chest, indicating something enormous and bouncy. "She's perfect! She's flawless! She's a goddess! If you don't think so it has to be because you're flat and ugly compared to her! She's everything a woman should be!"

Woman? If that's an accurate estimate of her size, then she's a cow, not a woman, and complete with udders too. She probably can't even walk without being dragged down by their weight. Zaerini was just about to tell the Tomb Excavator so, but Edwin got there before her.

"That," the Red Wizard said with his most sarcastic smirk, "is assuming you think all a woman should be is a comfy pillow. Of course, some of us have taste enough to prefer one who can actually carry a conversation, but I'm sure you'd find that too intimidating for your tastes. (And she's not flat. She's just right, and I'll be happy to drive that lesson home, preferably with a red-hot poker.)"

"Look," Imoen interjected with a toss of her pink hair. "We don't need to fight about this. The Tower is big enough for us all. Why don't you take those rooms over there and we'll go this way? I'm sure we can keep out of each others' way."

Riggolo frowned. "Fine," he eventually said with a sour look. "But you'd better not try to rob me or you'll get it. I know all Miss Bust's moves, including the Butterfly Kick, I'd take you out in two seconds." He spat on the floor and disappeared into an open doorway.

"Can we please kill him before we leave here?" Edwin asked in a conversational tone. "He's too annoying to be left alive."

"We cannot kill people simply because they are annoying!" Jaheira protested.

"Why not? Harpers do that all the time, killing people because they dislike them."

"Only evil people and criminals! And only to preserve the balance!"

"Evil I don't know about, but having that bad taste is criminal, and certainly unbalanced." The wizard snorted. "Delusional, even. Probably half-blind. Has to be."

"Thanks, Eddie," the bard said brightly. "Appreciate the support."

The wizard suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable and started paying an inordinate amount of attention to the spot where the wall met the ceiling. "I…er…I was simply drawing on my…er…vast knowledge of feminine allure," he said. "Using it, as it were, in a rational and completely objective manner. Yes. Rational. That's it. (And I'll make him pay for his insults. That I swear.)"

"Well, it was nice of you all the same." The half-elf rubbed her hands briskly. "So," she said. "Let's go do some tomb-excavating ourselves."

A narrow passage leading north took the adventurers into a small chapel, with wooden pews lined up along the walls, and a white marble altar at one end. There was some sort of large tome lying on the altar, and it glowed faintly with magical light.

"Oooh!" Imoen said. "That's so pretty…" She took a step in the direction of the altar, and then there was an audible * click * as she set off a trap she'd forgotten to check for. The young thief's normally friendly blue eyes suddenly turned hard and cold with deadly intent, and with a nasty smile on her face she made a graceful leap in the direction of her friends, sword drawn.

"She's been charmed!," Rini shouted as she barely avoided getting skewered on her best friend's sword. Imoen seemed intent on her personally, and it was with more than a little distress that she noticed that her friend had gotten quite adept at fighting since they'd left Candlekeep. Worse, she herself was on the defensive, parrying Imoen's blows as well as she could, but unable to strike back for fear of hurting her. Gods, she's become so fast! And she seems to know exactly which spots to aim for too…

And then the spells that Jaheira and Yeslick had started casting at the first warning were finally launched. One of them sent Imoen unconscious to the ground, while the other held her rigidly immobile.

"Are you all right?" Edwin asked, sounding rather worried. "She didn't harm you?"

The bard checked herself. "No, no," she said, once she'd decided that she was all in one piece. "I'm fine, thanks."

"Well, that's a relief. Charmed like that she was quite dangerous. In fact, for a moment there she reminded me a little of…er…somebody I know. (Pinker, to be sure, and much less experienced, but still some resemblance in style.)"

Imoen chose that moment to come out of her trance. "Oh Rini!" she wailed as she sat up, her eyes rapidly filling with tears. "I could have killed you! Can you ever forgive me?"

"Of course I do," the half-elf reassured her friend, giving her a hug. "I know it wasn't your fault. It must have been terrible for you too."

"But that's just it! It wasn't. I was all cold and calm inside, and I didn't even know you, all I knew was that you were supposed to be dead, and I was supposed to make you dead. I wasn't even angry with you, I just wanted you dead. And…and it felt so wonderful, not caring about anything but the kill…I feel like such a monster now!"

"Oh Immy. It was just the spell affecting you. I know you're not really like that, and so do you. You're all right now, and so am I."

"I guess," Imoen said with a shudder, raking her hand through her pink hair as she gave her friend a shaky smile. "I promise I'll be more careful in the future. I won't miss any more traps, I promise."

The book on the altar turned out to be a magical tome indeed, one that was supposed to give the user increased clarity of mind. Rini couldn't feel much of a difference after using it, but she thought that any change for the better had to be useful.

That settled, the adventurers returned to the central chamber, this time taking the southern door. This led them through a narrow corridor into another room. Several cupboards stood along the walls, there was a dwarven sized bed, and on a table a human skeleton lay. It looked almost as if it had lain down to take a nap.

"How very strange," Jaheira said. "I wonder why this man was not buried? And if he fell during the dwarf clan's last days, and they could not attend to him, then why are his bones laid out like that?"

"A way to honor him," Yeslick explained. "They would have buried him later, I think, but the battle took them as well before they could do so. May his spirit have found peace despite that neglect."

As if in answer to his comment there was a sudden, plaintive moan, and a white mist rose from the prone skeleton, forming into what was unmistakably a human shape, dressed in mage robes of filmy white. The ghost's eyes were sunken hollows, its face gaunt and drawn, and marked with madness. Yet there was a smile on that pained face as it looked upon Yeslick.

"Durlag...Durlag, my friend!" the spirit moaned. "You have returned, after age upon age. It is I, Daital, your friend of old. I have waited...waited long for your coming that I might help. My friend..."

The dwarf stood transfixed for a moment, obviously at a loss about how to respond to this. "Say something!" Zaerini whispered into his ear. "Try your best to keep him friendly, he seems to trust you."

Yeslick nodded feebly. "Of course...er...Daital," he said. "I have...missed your company."

The ghost frowned, looking a little puzzled. "You are uncharacteristically civil this day, Durlag...and I think you are...taller...than I recall. Time changes us all, I guess, though it has not erased my debt. I will serve here until you wish otherwise, to repay...repay...I barely remember what I owe, but it matters not."

"What do I say?" Yeslick hissed, looking quite desperate.

"Anything!" Rini whispered back. "Just be nice to him and try to keep him from attacking us. He has to know lots of things about this place."

Yeslick nodded again. "What debt is this?" he asked. "What has kept you here so long?"

The ghost was looking really suspicious by now. "The debt?" he asked. "You know the debt...When the evil came and took the faces of your clan, when your friends and mine became evil unmatched...you protected and fought though it pained. I could not harm...I could not strike at the clan I called family...you fought them all...though it hurt you more...I was the lucky one, and was released from the nightmare of life...the easy way. I will repay...you should know this...you should know! You have changed! You are not Durlag!" He hissed with fear and anger, obviously preparing to attack.

"Hold, samman!" Yeslick shouted, raising his hand. "I am not Durlag, 'tis true, but I am no noror to you, this I swear. Durlag is long dead, as are you, though your haunted soul knows it not. But I am a dwarf, and his distant kin, and if you have a debt to repay then you may do so to me."

The ghost faltered a little. "Yes," he said hesitantly. "Yes, I can see now. You have somewhat of Durlag's look about you. As you say. What do you wish of me?"

"What xunder you know, samman. Tell me, if you can, what the floors above and below us hold? Is there ae? Glander? Norogh?"

The ghost nodded. "There may be some gold and jewels left," he said, "though most was hidden deep into the lower levels. As for monsters, there lives a creature on the floor above us who is both beautiful and perilous. My friend Durlag imprisoned her there long ago, and you will be in grave danger if you choose to deal with her. Yet deal with her you must, if you wish to descend into the bowels of the Tower. There is a great evil loose in this place, and it has recently locked the lower floors against all intruders. You will need a special wardstone to go deeper into the Tower, one that the creature has stolen." He sighed. "Fight her or not, as you choose. But remember, she is very treacherous."

"I thank you, samman" Yeslick said. "You may consider your debt repaid, and I will pray for Clangeddin's blessing on your soul."

A smile spread across the ghost's face, and for the first time his eyes looked peaceful. "My thanks to you as well, young dwarf," he said. "I will remember your kindness as I leave this mortal plane…" He bowed deeply, and then his form dissolved into mist once more, as the old bones on the table crumbled into fine dust.

"A-an honest and good man," Khalid said. "May he find p-peace now that his v-vigil is at an end."

"Aye," Yeslick agreed. "He will, if this dwarf has any say in the matter." With that, he bowed his head in reverence and started praying, his face filled with compassion.

Small Dwarven Dictionary:
Samman - friend, shield-brother
Noror - enemy
Norogh - enemies, monsters
Ae - gold
Glander - gems
Xunder - secrets