In The Cards

There are many different ways of showing affection, some direct and obvious, some outright frightening, some subtle and easy to miss. Frustrating as it may be, I must say the subtle approach has its charms, especially compared to some other ways I've seen…

Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’

Her eyelids were heavy, so very heavy. She didn't think she could move her arms or legs either. But there was sweet air rushing into her lungs, giving them blessed relief. She was so very sleepy though…

Kitten? Kitten, you need to wake up now. Everybody is waiting.

Softpaws? Zaerini asked, once again trying in vain to open her eyes. What happened?

You got hit by a Stinking Cloud spell, remember? You've been out for some time. By the way, did you know that you have very interesting dreams? Very naughty too.

No I don't! And if I did, I'm sure I would remember them.

You're just suppressing your urges. There's nothing wrong with wanting to mate. All cats do.

Well, I'm not a cat. At least not at the moment. And I don't have any…'urges', thank you very much. And I don't want to 'mate'.

That's what you think kitten. Oh, look there. Seems somebody is planning to kiss you awake, just like in that old story. How sweet. Mind the beard though. I'm sure it tickles.

WHAT?! The bard involuntarily jerked rapidly into a sitting position, her golden eyes staring wildly about her as she tried to get her bearings. Unfortunately her sudden movement also meant that her head collided rather violently with Yeslick's. The dwarven priest was bending over her, apparently about to perform some sort of healing spell.

"Ow!" Rini cried out, massaging her aching forehead. She immediately found herself steadied by a strong dwarven hand as Yeslick's kindly face peered into her own with a worried expression.

"Lass?" the dwarf said, sounding concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"Wrong? Uh…no, no. Not at all. I just thought…that is…I thought you were…never mind." She could feel her cheeks growing hotter by the second, and she most definitely did not want to explain herself further. She kept her eyes steadily fixed on the fading writing on the wall. In this room the writing was in Common and said: Soft walks the trait'rous doppelganger, Into my dear son's practice chamber.

Speaking of dopplegangers…How could I possibly believe that Yeslick was…was…somebody else.

Sorry to disappoint you, kitten, Softpaws said, not sounding the least sorry. The black cat was perched on top of the sparring dummies, in the process of sharpening her claws on the aged leather. But at least it woke you up, didn't it?

I could have got anything. A fairy dragon. An imp. A raven, a rat, a fox, a…a bat. Anything. And I have to wind up with a cat that's a dedicated sadist.

Come now, kitten. Don't be grumpy. Don't you think it was funny?

NO!

Strange…I did. You two-legs have no sense of humour whatsoever.

As it turned out, the doppleganger had been permanently dealt with during Zaerini's brief fainting spell, and lay in a messy wet heap on the floor near the sparring dummies. Perhaps even more importantly, striking the sparring dummy had opened an alternate passage back to the central hall, the one with the doppleganger carpet. "And now we are back in the exact spot where we started," Jaheira said. "Where to now, fearless leader?" It would have been easy to mistake the comment for a barbed criticism, but Rini had known the druid long enough by now to catch the tiny hint of a smile on her face and the fact that her trademark glare was lacking.

"Oh, I don't know…" the bard drawled. "We could hang around here for the rest of our natural life-spans, I suppose. Or…"

"Or?"

"Or we could try pulling this other switch that we haven't tried yet." The half-elf immediately let action follow her words, and once again there was the rumbling sound of an opening door. This time it was the southern door in the entry chamber, directly opposite the one leading to the sparring dummies. It led to a bedroom, a rich, elegant and somehow vaguely feminine one.

The floor was set with red and white tiles in a decorative pattern, there was a carpet that had once been beautiful and soft but now was a moth-eaten and mouldy mess, and a huge canopied bed with deep red curtains.

"Stylish," Edwin remarked. "I see Durlag had some taste after all."

"Aw, come on," Imoen said with a grin. "You just like it 'cos it's all in red."

"I do not! (And if I do, it makes no difference. Red is after all the king of colours, unlike feeble pink.)"

"Look here," Khalid said, pointing at the ceiling. "There's m-more writing…" This time the gloomy sentence had been painted onto the ceiling with what looked like old blood, mixed with something vaguely phosphorescent. It read: Foul mimic of the mortal man, 'Twas in my shape they killed Islanne.

"Islanne," Jaheira said. "Durlag's wife. This may have been her chambers."

"Poor woman," Imoen said, sniffing. "Killed by the man she loved…it's so sad. If Adahn were to kill me I'd be totally heartbroken for weeks…"

"Yes," Edwin said. "Dead people usually aren't that lively, are they? (Not that I think he would kill her, but one never knows. It'd be no more than she deserves, mooning after him like that.)"

Zaerini hardly listened to the bickering behind her, she was busy pulling out the drawer next to the bed. There was a stone inside, a pretty stone with red markings all over it, and it reminded her of the other wardstones she'd seen so far. Hesitantly she reached out her fingers to touch it, surprised to find it hot to the touch, almost as if it were alive. And then there was a voice behind her back, a very familiar and unwelcome voice.

"Mmm, Islanne. Your hair is down, my love..."

Oh, great. Just great. Him again. Mr Nutball Dwarf himself.

Indeed it was the same visage of Durlag that they had encountered before, with the same frightening devotion on his face. He was coming towards her, his arms outstretched, smiling widely.

"Er…" Rini said. "I feel I should tell you at this point that I'm not your wife. Or even a dwarf. Just thought you ought to know." She gestured frantically for her friends to move behind the ghostly apparition. Durlag paid her no heed.

"'Tis time we slept, my sweetling..." he simply said, sounding very tender.

Oh dear. That is definitely not an option. Not with the doppleganger of a several centuries old dead dwarf, and a married one to boot. "Can't we do something else instead?" she tried. "Maybe…maybe play hide and seek or something? I can hide."

Durlag kept advancing, but now the devotion on his face was changing, twisting into something dark and horrible. Suddenly Zaerini knew what she was seeing, knew that this was what the unfortunate Islanne had faced just before she died, these were the words she had heard spoken.

"The torches gutter and darkness falls," the dwarf intoned. "Islanne, my love, my love, my love, my thsss, my thssssss..." Whatever the doppleganger was about to say or do never got said. A Magic Missile from Edwin hit him in the back, swiftly followed by a Flame Arrow that burned its way clean through his stomach. The doppleganger hissed and screamed with rage, turning towards the enemies behind it, but Jaheira and Khalid were there to meet it, and it soon fell, its head neatly severed from its grey and wrinkly body.

"Thanks you, guys," Rini told her friends with a small shudder. "That was really unpleasant."

"No need to thank us, child," Jaheira said. "Gorion did wish us to be your guardians, and part of that duty includes dealing with unsuitable men who may be a danger to you. I would say this one qualified."

"Most certainly," Edwin agreed. "Any man trying to lay a finger on you against your wishes will soon find himself sadly in lack of said appendage. (And probably of other assorted body-parts as well.)"

"Ah…thank you Edwin," the bard said, feeling a little surprised by the wizard's vehemence but strangely pleased by it nevertheless. "That's…very nice of you. I'll make certain to let you know if I ever need anybody dismembered, shall I?" It…really is a rather sweet thought. In a totally ruthless, yet oddly endearing way.

Once again the door they had entered through had closed behind them, but once again the doppleganger had entered through yet another secret passage, and the adventurers could easily make their way back to what they had now started to refer to as the Really Ugly Carpet room.

"No more switches," Imoen said. "Now what?"

"Let's go back to the entry room," Rini suggested. "Perhaps we've missed something." There were no more secret doors to be seen though, and the bard sighed with frustration. "There has to be something," she complained. "There must be another staircase, leading further down, and there must be a way to access it. We're missing something blatantly obvious, I know we are." Then she turned to see her friends staring at her very strangely. "What?"

"Oh, nothing much," Edwin remarked. "Unless you count the small detail that your backpack just started glowing a bright red."

"Huh?" The half-elf twisted her head around to see that the wizard was correct. Her backpack was glowing, a deep and throbbing ruby red glow. As she pulled it open she found the source of the light to be the red stone she'd found in Islanne's chamber.

"I know what to do!" Imoen exclaimed excitedly. "Here, let me have it!" The pink-haired thief proceeded to hold the glowing stone aloft, running it along the walls like a torch. Once she passed it over a certain spot there was the groaning sound of moving rocks, and a large stone slab slid aside, revealing a door where none had been visible before.

"That was really clever, Immy," Zaerini told her friend admiringly. "How did you think of it?"

Imoen grinned. "It's a rogue thing," she said. "If you can't pick a lock with your lockpicks, you should try using your brain instead."

"Let me guess. Adahn told you that."

"Mmmm…" Imoen's smile was dreamy. "He knows lots of things. And he's so sweet beneath that aloof attitude, really, really sweet."

"No he's not!" Edwin violently protested, looking almost personally insulted. "Er…I mean…I wouldn't think so. And I'm sure he'd be deeply insulted if you were to imply any such thing. Not that I would know, but it's an educated guess."

"Don't be silly. He is sweet I tell you, I've talked to him more than you have." The rogue blithely ignored the by now rather murderous and immensely frustrated look on the Red Wizard's face. "And of course he has those divine…"

"Yes, yes," Rini hastily said, not wanting to go into details about Adahn's divine somethings. "I'm sure you're right. But as he isn't here right now you'll have to do without him for the moment." She pointed at the open door. "In the meantime, Crackpot Durlag and his House of Horrors will have to do for an alternate source of entertainment…"