In The Cards

Jealousy can really devour a person, making them interpret every situation in the worst possible way. And it doesn't have to be a regular rivalry over a lover, there are other kinds of jealousy that are just as fierce and destructive, just as there are other kinds of love.

Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'

"Oooh!" Zaerini exclaimed as the adventurers entered a new room. "What a nice harp! Hold on a moment, I have to give it a try." The instrument was certainly a beautiful one, made from gold, and as the half-elf slowly strummed a few notes they sounded pure and golden themselves. Like her eyes, Edwin thought, and then he made himself push that thought aside. He couldn't afford any bouts of…irrationality, not now. This place was far too dangerous. Like her smile. He groaned inwardly. Something had to be terribly wrong with him for him to feel this confused. Probably some serious illness. Perhaps even a curse. It might be a good idea to ask one of the healers to check him out later. "I think it might be enchanted," Zaerini declared, giving the harp a loving look. "Otherwise it couldn't possibly have stayed tuned for so long."

"Aye, that is likely," Yeslick said, stroking his blond beard as he nodded. "Next time we settle down to rest I'll really have to show ye some proper traditional dwarven music, lass. I'm sure ye'd appreciate it."

"What of this thing then?" Jaheira asked, pointing at another large object. "Is that traditional for dwarves as well?" The thing in question was an enormous gong, big enough that it nearly reached the roof.

"Nay," Yeslick said. "I do nay know what that be for, it's like nothing I've ever seen."

"Perhaps Durlag installed it as a sort of dinner gong," Edwin remarked, feeling an urge to let out some of his growing tension. "Sort of 'Here I Am All You Monsters, Please Come And Eat Me'. It would be in character for the old loony. (Or maybe the gong summons a dragon or something. Or a lich. It wouldn't surprise me.)"

"He wasn't a loony!" Yeslick protested.

"Oh no? And you think installing riddle-spouting metal dwarves in the living-room is perfectly sane, do you? Not to mention traps enough to kill a Tarrasque."

"Well…," the dwarf admitted. "Perhaps he was just a tad eccentric. Just a tad."

"I'm sure we will be able to refrain from hitting that gong if we try really hard," Zaerini said, looking amused. "Unbearably tempting as it may be."

The next room was a circular one, and looked a little bit like a temple. Four books lay open in small niches in a marble bench, their pages still crisp and white as if by magic. "Interesting," Zaerini said as she bent over the first one. "They seem to be detailing Durlag's deeds. This one speaks of how he was instrumental in slaying a whole lot of invading Drow." She moved on. "And this one describes a battle with a dragon." She read a few passages out loud. "An entire room devoted to his own ego," the bard said once she had finished with the texts, her golden eyes sparkling mischievously. "Interesting idea, right Eddie?"

"Foolishness," Edwin said with a dismissive shake of his head. "Who's interested in some axe-swinging dwarf anyway? Now, if these were books chronicling the marvelous deeds of some Great Wizard, such as myself…" He drifted off into pleasant thoughts. Yes, yes. Very nice. A whole staff of devoted and hard-working authors putting the tales of my greatest accomplishments to paper, preserving them for generations to come. That sounds about right. And naturally there would have to be a few chapters devoted to describing just how devastatingly handsome and charming I am. He paused. No, better make that a whole volume. Or two. Maybe a trilogy. And of course my brilliant mind and finely tuned wit would also have to be paid proper attention to, possibly in the form of an epic poem. And each book should come with a picture of me on the back, one enchanted to move…

The Red Wizard then was abruptly startled out of his reverie by somebody knocking him gently on the forehead. "Helloooo?" Zaerini asked, peering into his face. "Anybody home? You sort of faded out there for a while."

"No I didn't," Edwin protested. "I was just…thinking."

"Uh-huh." The bard had a wide grin on her face by now. "Preening, more likely. But that's all right, it looked sort of cute."

Cute?! "Madam, I'll have you know that I happen to be a Red Wizard of Thay. A master of manipulation, a terror of thaumaturgy. I am not c…" Then he made the mistake of looking into her glittering eyes and felt his thoughts slowly unravel. "Not…uh…cute…at all…much rather…be thought of…as intimidating."

"Sure, Eddie," the half-elf said. The way she was smiling made him feel like his robes were on fire. I think I may be ill. It certainly feels like a fever. And it's getting very hard to breathe all of a sudden… "If you say so. You're very intimidating."

"Hey, guys!" Imoen exclaimed as she came running into the room, pink hair bobbing. "You've gotta come look at what I found, right across the hall! It's really neat!" The thing she'd found turned out to be a very large sword, rammed into a standing stone in a circular chamber resembling the one they'd just left. It was glowing, shining with an eerie blue light, and it was humming softly as well. "Isn't it pretty?" Imoen asked, touching the blade. "Oh! That tickles! See, I got a little bored with all those books, so I came here, and then it started glowing all of a sudden and it talked!"

"Talked?" Jaheira said. "So what did it say?"

Imoen waved her hand a little airily. "Oh, something about Durlag's Deeds now having been given proper glory or something. Can't remember exactly."

"I h-h-have it!" Khalid said, looking very pleased with himself. "It i-is the riddle."

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

The half-elven warrior beamed at his friends. "D-do you see? It c-came to me as I was watching E-edwin here, and the books we r-read and the g-glowing sword c-confirm it. We have s-solved the third riddle, and the answer is P-Pride!"

I really fail to see what that has to do with me, Edwin thought. And I wish somebody would tell me what's suddenly so very amusing. Any moment now somebody will crack a rib with laughing, and I won't feel sorry.

As the adventurers continued on their way Edwin turned his mind to another subject, and a far more disturbing one than feeling that he had somehow missed a joke. Namely That Picture, and all it seemed to imply. Creating a mental barrier in his mind to keep himself from actually seeing That Picture, he tried to think about what it meant. Surely his teacher hadn't…hadn't gotten himself romantically entangled with little Imoen? It would be utterly uncharacteristic for him to do a thing like that. He'd never displayed any obvious interest in any particular woman, or man for that matter. It had always seemed that he lived completely for his work. And now this. It can't be true. It just can't. But…but suppose it is? How will I ever be able to look him in the face again, I keep getting these horrible mental images… I'll have to ask him. Yes. Just ask him, straight to his face. Then Edwin groaned inwardly as he pictured the likely reaction of his mentor to such a question. Oh no. Suppose…suppose it is true? Suppose he actually has fallen for her? Suppose they decide to get married? And move away? And start a…a family?

That last thought made the wizard feel positively nauseous with panic. No, no, no, no, NO! He can't do that! He…he can't just leave me! A tiny voice was trying to tell him that perhaps this was just a little bit selfish, but he managed to ignore it. He can't just waltz off and ignore me in order to play house with some girl, can he? Can he? Not when he I need him. But…but suppose he cares more about her than about me? Edwin glared darkly at Imoen's back up ahead, and for one insane moment thought about how a well-placed spell or two would remove her from the equation. No, no. What am I thinking? If I did that, and he really does care about her, he'd never forgive me. And neither would Zaerini, come to think of it. Besides, I rather like the girl. I…I just don't want her to get in the way, that's all. Besides, he's not really in love with her. He can't be. The very notion is ridiculous.

Then he thought of something. But…he has spent some time alone with her. Who knows how much? And he has apparently been giving her lessons, it's not as if I can't recognize certain of her new moves. It's not fair! He never taught me any rogue skills! The thought that maybe this was because he himself was supposed to be a wizard was ruthlessly squashed. The jealousy was riding him really hard by now and he wasn't inclined to be reasonable. It's not fair. He's supposed to be my friend, not hers. Well, I don't care what anybody says. She can't have him. I'll make certain of it. And if nothing else works I suppose I can always ask Mother to help. She's sure to make him see reason, he usually listens to her…

The corridor now led into a small and anonymous room, with nothing interesting about it except for the large skeleton wielding a two-handed sword that came ambling towards the party, moaning and groaning. The battle proved a fierce one, since this undead warrior was much hardier than the skeletons they'd encountered so far, and Edwin's mood didn't improve when he realized that his magic was useless against it. Magic resistant. How typical. I could certainly use one of those special spells to counteract that. Maybe Master Dekaras can find one for me. Unless he'll be too busy teaching Imoen how to pick locks, that is.

Once the skeleton fell the adventurers continued on their way, disposing of a pair of Mustard Jellies with no particular difficulty before entering a small storage room, to the north of the main hallway. There were no valuables to be found, and the its one distinguishing feature was the door that led into the main hall. The four warders could be glimpsed in the distance, still marching around the stairwell. "Well, that's handy," Zaerini said. "A shortcut. Should spare us some time when we want to go back."

"Hold on!" Jaheira exclaimed, grasping the bard by the arm. "Look more closely." The thing that had attracted the druid's attention was lying just on the other side of the door. A corpse. No, Edwin realized, a whole pile of corpses.

"Traps," Imoen declared. The thief was kneeling on the floor by now, watching it closely. "A whole row of them, firetraps it seems. I think I could disarm the first, but the ones at the other end look way too difficult." She sighed a little. "I bet Adahn could handle them though. Pity he's not here."

"No it's not," Edwin snapped, "or we'd have to watch you drool all over him."

"I don't drool," Imoen retorted, looking rather peeved. "I just enjoy the view, that's all. No need to be so tetchy, it's not as if you need to be jealous or anything."

There wasn't really very much he could say in answer to that without revealing too much, so Edwin had to content himself with fuming quietly. But then he thought of something else, and a very disturbing thought it was too. I've…I've been a selfish fool, haven't I? What does it matter about Imoen? He could be in terrible danger right now, all for my sake, and all I can think about is how he feels about a silly girl? And I even agree with her. I do wish he was here, if only so I could know for certain that he's all right. He gritted his teeth a little. To know that for certain I'd put up with just about anything, even seeing them tongue-wrestle for hours. Even hearing them spout declarations of undying love and making up names for their future babies. I just want him to be safe and not get himself into trouble. Only that. Surely that's not too much to ask for. Is it?

But the living did not hear Edwin's unspoken question, and if the dead of Durlag's Tower did, they chose not to answer.