In The Cards

Riddles is of course a traditional pastime for bards, though the real riddle-masters are usually halflings. Still, if I'm to solve riddles I usually prefer the ones where my life isn't on the line. The 'Riddle Of Death' game is something I think only halflings can really appreciate. It's a hereditary thing, I guess. I usually don't like to play more dangerous than a game of 'Strip-Riddle' myself.

Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'

Zaerini slipped quietly through the great hall, her paws making no sound whatsoever, Softpaws at her side. The two cats found themselves in what seemed to be a sort of major dining-hall. There were several large tables, the main one covered with a red tablecloth. Dusty and broken plates and cups were scattered here and there, as well as the remains of what had once been food. It didn't look as if the dwarves had ever got to finish their meal. And I'm not sure I like to think about what interrupted them, Rini thought. She was getting more used to her cat senses now, hearing, sight and smell. Smell was the one most noticeably heightened from its normal level. She could smell the dust lying thick on the floor, the mold and rot of the old carpets and tablecloths, a distant and unpleasant smell that spoke of some sort of living creature. But she could smell nothing from the four dwarf warders, nothing except cold metal.

Be careful, kitten, Softpaws warned her. They may not be alive, but they are still dangerous.

Oh, I know. I won't go too close.

The four warders didn't seem interested in the cats however, ignoring them completely. They just kept going, round and round in their eternal circle around the large stairwell. It was obvious they'd been there for a long time, they'd managed to wear a groove in the stone floor. One was wearing a red mage robe that reminded Rini somewhat uncomfortably of Edwin. I didn't think there was such a thing as dwarven wizards? Guess I was wrong. Another looked like a thief, with a deep hood and a short sword in his hand. The remaining two resembled dwarven warriors. Of course the clothes were metal as well as the warders themselves, and beautifully crafted.

I'm going to turn back now, just for a moment. If they go hostile we scram, as quickly as possible. She didn't wait for her familiar to respond before she acted, afraid that if she hesitated too long she wouldn't dare. As she flickered into her own form the warders stopped in their tracks, regarding her with chilling eyes of gold and silver, copper and steel. They made no move to attack her however. And then one of them opened its mouth and spoke, in a voice reminiscent of swords clanging together.

I am the warrior's curse
I steal his future
I mar his past
The more he has, the less it seems
He becomes a slave
Of glittering things

Yet I hunger - Feed me that which glitters beyond all else.

Then the second one.

I am the warrior's bane
I live in the darkness of his soul
I bring him to his knees,
Trembling and weeping
Unable to lift a hand in his own defense

Yet I sleep - Awaken Me

And the third one.

I am the warrior's fate
I raise him above his brethren
I amplify his deeds
He becomes scornful, where once he had respect
He becomes a giant, where once he was a man

Yet I lack the proper honor - Raise me up in glory
Through the chronicles of my deeds, pride shall be honored
Through the passing of knowledge my sword shall display its glory
Then you shall know that I am well pleased

And finally the last one, the one that looked like a wizard in red robes.

I am the warrior's madness
I curse him with trust and respect
I slow the blade in its course
By stealing his passion for blood
And offering a softer emotion in return

Yet I thirst for more - Give me the sweet crimson drink of laughter and passion.

Having said their piece the four warders closed their mouths and went back to their patrol, silent once more. Now that, Rini thought, was quite seriously creepy.

Half an hour later the party had gathered in the large hall, having made certain that the warders weren't about attack them. They still felt rather uncomfortable around the metal dwarves, however, and had set up camp as far away from them as possible. "So," Rini asked her companions. "What do you all think of these riddles? I have a feeling Durlag didn't put them there simply to provide his visitors with entertainment."

"It seems obvious," Jaheira said. The druid was sitting cross-legged on the floor, brushing the snarls out of her golden-brown hair. "These riddles are the clues to help bypass the warders, and descend to the next level of the tower. Four different things or actions, and most likely we need to solve the riddles themselves as well."

"The first one seems straightforward enough," Edwin said. The Red Wizard was looking keenly interested, and was seemingly enjoying the intellectual challenge. "That which glitters beyond all else must be some form of treasure. Gold, or gems. Durlag had plenty of those, after all."

"Aye," Yeslick agreed, "but which particular one is intended here? Must be something very special."

"The second one is even stranger," Zaerini said, shaking her head. "What brings a warrior to his knees, trembling and weeping? And how do we awaken it?"

"I d-don't know," Khalid said, nervously looking at the shadows around the edges of the hall, "but I f-f-fear it won't be p-pleasant."

"Of course!" Edwin exclaimed. "Fear! That's it. We should have known. (After all, we do have such a prime example in our midst.)" He smirked slightly, ignoring Jaheira's glare.

"That could be it, I suppose," Rini agreed. "But I still don't know how we're supposed to 'awaken' it. I don't suppose shouting 'Boo' at the warder will be enough. Now, the third one. The one with the glory, and the knowledge. That one also mentions a sword. I suppose we'll have to keep our eyes open for any unusual swords."

"What about the final one?" Imoen asked.

The bard paused. "I'm…not sure. The drink that's mentioned, that has to be wine. But we don't have any with us, and I don't know where we'll find any down here. And the riddle itself…I just don't know."

Yes you do, kitten, Softpaws said. The black cat was seated right next to the half-elf, carefully washing her left thigh. Or you should. Think laughter and passion. Think soft emotion. Think red.

What's that supposed to mean?

Oh, kitten. Try to use that brain of yours. It's Love of course. You really should have guessed that one. But I suppose it's always hard to see what's right beneath your nose.

The adventurers settled down to rest then, hoping to catch some sleep before exploring this floor further. Rini had difficulties sleeping however. Her familar's words kept running through her head, as did the four riddles of the warders. Fear. Love. Two more. What can it be? What are we supposed to do? Fear and Love. Fear…and…Love. Love. Why am I suddenly supposed to be an expert on love? She sighed impatiently. It was no use. She might as well worry and fret with her eyes open.

Yeslick was on guard-duty, and the half-elf didn't want to distract him. She could see that Imoen was also awake however. Her friend was lying on her stomach, very preoccupied with something.

"Immy?" the bard asked quietly as she walked up to her friend. "What are you doing?"

"Eep!" the thief cried out, and started violently. Then her blue eyes brightened and she sat up. "Oh, hi Rini! I'm just working on that drawing I mentioned before. I couldn't sleep, I kept thinking about it, and how to make it even more perfect, and now it's done! Want to see?" She gave her friend a hopeful smile.

"I…I guess so," Zaerini said, feeling a little worried. Imoen was good at drawing. She had also made it rather clear who her current choice of subject was. And she could be very direct. Dreading the worst the bard accepted the piece of paper and carefully unrolled it. Then she stared, her eyes very wide and her mouth slowly gaping open. Oh my. Hope she's not planning on actually this one to Adahn, assuming they ever meet up again. I don't think he'd appreciate this.

The picture portrayed the mysterious rogue, just as she had suspected. In various positions. Standing, sitting, crouching with a long dagger in his hand. The likenesses were good. Imoen had managed to capture that air of darkness and danger that hung about the rogue like a cloak of shadows, and also the impression of sarcastic wit. And then…there was the central picture. In that one he was lying down, reclining on what seemed to be a black bearskin rug. He was smiling seductively up at the viewer of the picture, black eyes smoldering with unspoken promises and open invitation. He also had a very nicely shaped body, not all that heavily muscled but lean and strong all the same. This wasn't hard to see. Not since in this particular picture he'd been portrayed wearing nothing whatsoever.

"So, what d'ya think?" Imoen asked eagerly. "Isn't he the hottest? Oooh, I'll have the loveliest dreams tonight after watching this for a while."

"Um…very…very nice. It's just…"

"Yes?"

"Immy, that…that central picture… I mean, in the others he at least wears various items of black leather but that one… You never saw him quite like that, did you?"

Imoen blushed a little. "Well, not exactly. But I'm a rogue too, see? I'm trained to notice things, to spot what's hidden. Like traps."

Bet Adahn never guessed she'd use that skill to spot what's hidden beneath his clothes, Rini thought, fighting an urge to either laugh or blush. "I…I see."

"So it wasn't difficult," Imoen cheerfully went on. "He does tend to wear rather tight leathers after all." Her eyes went a little unfocused. "Very…very tight." Then she giggled for no particular reason. "I think I got it all right. Of course I'll have to check that in person as soon as possible."

"Uh-huh. Right. Well. Certainly looks very…shapely. You sure you haven't exaggerated at all? Not even…there?" She pointed gingerly at a certain spot.

Imoen shook her pink head violently. "Nope. Nope, it's like I told ya. I'm a rogue. I notice these things." Her smile went very, very wide, and her eyes a little unfocused. "Next time we meet, I'm gonna show it to him. And then he'll know how I feel about him, and that it's True Love, and he'll sweep me off my feet and do all sorts of naughty and nice things, and then we'll live happily ever after and have lots of kids, enormously cute ones of course, but not until after we become really famous and infamous all over the Realms, the way a pair of dashing and clever rogues should be and…"

Oh dear. It could have been just the flickering candle-light, but Zaerini thought the man in the picture was starting to look really, really hunted now. Poor Adahn. I almost wish I could warn him. Somehow I get the feeling he's used to doing the chasing, not to being chased. And Immy doesn't give up easily…Who am I kidding? She hardly ever gives up. I just hope he doesn't 'sweep her off her feet' and into a river or something. Or off a roof.