In The Cards

A picture may say more than a thousand words, but both pictures and words may lie. Here is a word of advice. If something seems too good to be true, it usually is.

Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’

“So,” Zaerini said to her friends. “Here we are again. Anybody want to guess what we’ve got to do next? What was that? Yes! We have to go talk to the nice statues! Won’t that be fun?” The bard stalked over to the nearest statue, that of a doppelganger. She was practically radiating annoyance, and if she’d currently had a tail it would have been lashing angrily back and forth. I just want to get out of this stupid tower, she thought. No more riddles, no more traps, no more crazy dwarves. I almost wish I’d let Sarevok cut my head off rather than come here. Hm, I wonder how he would have reacted to this place? Probably would have chopped his way straight through the wall or something… Grinning faintly at this mental image she approached the statue, waiting for it to speak.

The doppelganger opened its mouth and hissed loudly. We came to kill, but not without reasonsss. We were here before, asss were the Tentaclesss. Their underground wasss near, and the tower intruded on their expansionsss. Asss well, the bait was too great to passs. The dwarvesss did not hide their wealthhh; did not ssstop the rumorsss of waisst-deep gold! The invadersss came and ssstill come, but not without invite. We came to kill, but not without reasonsss

“Yes,” Yeslick said, nodding. “Dwarves usually do not flaunt their wealth, that is a sure way to invite disaster. Durlag made a mistake, but surely he has been punished enough for it by now.”

“Y-yes,” Khalid agreed. “L-losing his entire f-family is something n-nobody deserves.”

“No,” Edwin said, pulling his robe closer around him as if he was feeling cold. “It…it really isn’t.”

“Let’s try another one,” Imoen said and moved over to the statue of a young dwarf. It turned its head to look at her, its face sad. There was no warning, but it would not have helped. There was no need to prepare for hard times, because hard times would never come. So we were assured, and so we believed. The great Trollkiller was our provider, and he would protect us. We put down our swords to live the life he always wanted: we lived as family. Suspicions were for outsiders; guards and weapons were for wartime. There was no warning, but it would not have helped.

“Gorion…” Rini said, her voice quiet. “I always thought he could protect me against anything. I was so certain of that. And then I found out that I was wrong. So very wrong…anybody can die. Even those we love, who have always been there for us.”

“Perhaps,” Edwin said. His face was tense as he gave the statue a hard look. “But we can always fight to keep that from happening. (And I will. No matter what.)”

“Only one more,” Jaheira said and turned to the statue of a builder. It bowed its head and spoke. We crafted as we were told. We built this place to prevent all from entering. We trapped every inch of every step, and made sure that to enter meant death. We have killed many over time, though it is not our will. It is all to protect against a repeat of the past, though the challenges ensure it will repeat. A mountain to climb; a river to cross. Because it is there, they will come. We crafted as we were told.

“It is clear enough,” Yeslick said. “Sometimes the very fact that we are trying to protect ourselves or another will be thing that brings the danger. So it was with Durlag, for as he tried to keep his clan safe they forgot much of their battle skills, and as he tried to keep his tower safe he tempted people to enter. Still, it is always easy to be wise after the fact. I cannot find it in me to blame Durlag Trollkiller for wishing to keep his family from harm. Many would have done the same.”

Zaerini didn’t answer. She was anxious to get through the final riddle, and then…then what? She didn’t know, but she knew that she had to go on. “Speak, Durlag,” she told the final statue. “What do you wish to say?”

The statue of Durlag looked back at her, the cracks along its cheeks making it look as if it were weeping. This is the end of things. Here I stood and struck them down as they came. My family and my clan, with their false faces; they dropped all pretense and drew their weapons against me. I fought them to the last, killing the shapechangers that had taken their forms. I cursed them for destroying the dream, but they were not the real evil. The real evil could not save my people before this deception. The real evil hid from life in the face of this tragedy. The real evil deserves the blame. This is the end of things. Answer where blame has fallen.

Oh gods. The poor bastard completely blames himself for everything, doesn’t he? For being wealthy enough to attract the attention of the doppelgangers. For trying to keep his family safe and being overly protective. Even for retreating into solitude after he saw everybody he loved wiped out. “I may not agree with this,” Rini said, “but this is what you think. The invaders were first, but you think they had their reasons to attack, so you do not blame them. You do not blame your family either, though they failed to see the danger, for they trusted that you would keep them safe. And you do not blame the craftsmen for turning this tower into a deathtrap, they did only what they were told, and so they have no responsibility for the deaths the Tower has claimed. In your own eyes, you are the one to blame for all that has happened here.”

The statue nodded. You have understood. You may yet survive what I could not.

A few seconds later the half-elf found herself standing opposite Durlag’s ghost. His eyes were as hollow and dead as before, she noticed. Traps or no traps. Now that I know exactly what he went through I can’t really bring myself to hate him anymore.

“You will survive this place…” Durlag said, the faintest glimmer of hope in his voice. “You understand what built the hate...the fear...now you must prevent it becoming worse...a creature below...powerful beyond all...you must remove...or it shall make this place its own...such a fortress...impenetrable if remade in his image...”

“This would be the Death Knight, I take it,” Jaheira said.

“Yes…yes it is. He…has put wards of his own in here. Until he is defeated…I cannot get you out. You must face him first…prevent this new evil from profiting…from my old sins…and you shall have my aid.”

“We will,” Rini said. “After all, it’s not as if we have much choice. But there’s something you ought to know first.” She made her voice as steady and reliable as she could. “You may be an old nutball obsessed with traps, but you’re being to hard on yourself. So you made mistakes, even some bad mistakes. That doesn’t make you evil, not when all you ever wanted was to keep your clan safe. Maybe you don’t know that, but Islanne does.”

Durlag’s pale face jerked up, and there was deep pain in his voice. “I-Islanne? You…you have seen my Islanne?”

“Yes we did,” Imoen interjected. “And she said that she still loves you, but she can’t go near you as long as you keep hating yourself.”

The ghost sighed, the sound of a wind sweeping through an abandoned graveyard. “Islanne…my love. I…want to believe. But…I cannot. Not yet. I…must think on this. Come…I will show you the way you must walk. Follow me…” With that he drifted off along the corridor that led towards the armory, turning right when he got there. At a wave of his hand a previously unseen door slid quietly open. “Through there…” Durlag stated. “Down the stairs. I…will await your return.”

The passage led down a short stairway and into a mostly empty storage room with a few chests and boxes scattered on the floor, and another stairway leading further down. It wasn’t quite empty though. A strange woman in a very tight costume was on her hands and knees, rifling through one of the boxes in question. She was perhaps the largest woman Zaerini had ever seen, almost as wide as she was tall, with a long braid that reached to her non-existent waist and a bust so enormous that she was in serious danger of falling flat on her face whenever she bent forwards. As she got to her feet, huffing and puffing, Rini was reminded of a landslide, only in reverse.

“Ha!” the woman said in an extremely haughty voice. “More fools on their way to oblivion. Really, this is no place for children.” There was something very familiar about that arrogant face as well. Rini tried to mentally remove several layers of fat. The image she came up with was instantly recognizable. No way can it be…but it has to be…but in that picture she was much slimmer…

“Largest Bust?!” the bard almost stammered.

“It is I,” the woman proudly proclaimed, all her chins bobbing up and down. “Largest Bust, Tomb Excavator Supreme. You may have my autographs for 50 gold a piece.”

“But you can’t be Largest Bust!” Rini protested. “We saw this picture earlier and it hardly resembled you at all.”

“Oh, one of those pictures? You stupid girl, you should know better than to trust in merchandise. I never looked like that, but it’s what the teenage boys like, and their sad fantasies earn me a nice net profit at the end of the year. Honestly, there is no such thing as a woman with a bust that’s ten times wider than her waist. Not in real life, at least. Only a fool would think so. Now, what are you amateurs doing here? You aren’t planning to steal my treasure are you? I’ll get it all right, just as soon as I figure out how to fight that Death Knight who’s hiding out downstairs. There are bound to be some healing potions stacked around here, probably some massive weaponry as well. After all, he’s the big boss of this dungeon.”

“But…” Imoen interjected. “How did you get in here, past all those traps? Durlag only opened the way to us after we did lots of running around and riddle solving.”

Largest Bust snorted. “Durlag? Who’s that? I just stepped onto a hidden ledge after collecting ten silver and ten gold rings in various spots around the tower, and then I was teleported here. Works every time.”

The gods must really hate me, Rini thought. That is just so unfair.

“Well,” Edwin said, “it has been a real experience meeting you, Miss Bust. I never would have imagined you would be this impressive. Larger than life, really. (Also larger than a pregnant hippo, but let’s not go into that.) Perhaps you might be able to help us out.”

“Help you?” Largest Bust said with a contemptuous sneer. “What do you little amateurs want?”

“The true treasure of the Tower lies on the top floor,” Edwin said. “An enchanted elven prince, comely and rich beyond belief, cursed by a demon into eternal sleep. He lies in his chamber, awaiting the kiss of a True Hero, one who may free him from his enslavement, which is made even more terrible by the fact that the curse also makes him look like a human, and a particularly gormless one at that.”

“A wealthy and handsome elven prince?” Largest Bust said, flipping her brown braid across her shoulder and shifting her crossbow a little. “I like the sound of that. But why haven’t any of these gals claimed him?”

“Ah, but they are no True Heroes, of course. Not like you. None of them are worthy, though they certainly tried.” The Red Wizard’s voice took on a sorrowful note. “Still, if you think you aren’t up to it, I suppose the poor prince (Charming, his name is) will just have to wait a few more centuries for somebody to share his kingdom with. His father swore that the prince would marry whoever freed him, but if you’re not interested…”

“Move aside, pipsqueaks!” Largest Bust exclaimed, pushing Imoen and Khalid aside as she charged up the stairs, waving a crossbow in each chubby hand. “Prince Charming, I’m coming to get youuuu!”

After the terrible noise that sounded like a stampeding herd of cattle had subsided, Zaerini finally spoke, her golden eyes very thoughtful. “I wonder if she’ll survive the monsters upstairs,” she said. “I certainly hope so.”

“Oh yes,” Edwin said in a very smug voice. “It looks like that idiot Riggolo is going to get woken up by his One True Love after all. I’m sure Miss Bust will be a little disappointed when he doesn’t turn into a handsome elven prince, but fair is fair. After all he will likely be rather disappointed himself that she doesn’t quite match his mental image of her.”

“Hm, I just remembered something else. Didn’t the succubus Kirinhale tell us that the magic kiss would bond the two people involved forever?”

Edwin gave her what she thought he meant to come across as an innocent look. It didn’t quite end up that way, mostly because he couldn’t quite keep from smirking, but it looked oddly endearing just the same, Rini thought. “You know,” he said, “I think you are right. It seems yet another one of my uncountable talents has emerged and blossomed. Not that I would ever wish to be anything other than a master mage, but apparently I could also become an unparalleled matchmaker.”