In The Cards

Some girls want flower and others candy or jewels. While I love all those things, my taste is a bit more specialized. Or bizarre, depending on how you want to look at it. The road to my heart is a somewhat crooked one.

Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’

Edwin Odesseiron had hated, reviled and despised more than one person in his life. But in this particular moment all of that collected negative feeling seemed to have focused on just one single, utterly insufferable individual. If looks could kill, then Elminster the Sage would have spontaneously combusted already. Edwin glared at the elderly wizard, taking in each detail, painstakingly committing them to memory in order to be able to better nurse his grudge.

The stupid white beard. Is that a chicken bone sticking out of it? How disgusting. Just because a wizard is on the road, that’s no reason to neglect proper grooming.

The stupid, stupid ever-smoking pipe. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be able to ram that down his esophagus and give him the ulcer of a lifetime…or perhaps up his nose and into what passes for his brain.

The stupid, stupid, stupid pointy hat. Such a ridiculous garment. I mean, honestly, I was six the last time I genuinely wanted to wear something like that. The man has no fashion sense whatsoever. And who ever gave him the right to wear red robes anyway?

The stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid smug smile on the old face, and the eyes twinkling with amused appreciation as the old wizard watched the half-elf he was currently addressing. Quit staring at her like that, you old letch, or I’ll poke your defiling eyes out and feed them to you on the end of a pointy stick. You have no right to look at her like that. And don’t think I haven’t heard about you and your habits where females are concerned. If not for divine intervention you’d probably long ago have succumbed to one of those diseases that make your private parts turn black and fall off, and that have ‘amusing’ names like ‘The Wobblies’ or ‘Kiss Mr Friendly Goodbye’. Urgh. Nasty mental image, that. But anyway, that old coot had better be respectful to her or that beard will go up inflames! Nobody insults her but me.

Zaerini didn’t seem to be particularly happy to see Elminster either, something that made Edwin immensely relieved. She had placed her hands on her hips and was currently giving the old wizard a rather cold stare. This didn’t seem to faze Elminster however. “A fortunate meeting this,” he was saying. “What a marvelous happenstance that we should again cross paths, especially in such a grand city as this. Ahh, I see by thine eyes that thou've no time for my wry banter. 'Tis true, our meeting was no accident, though I do honestly take pleasure in seeing thee again.” He’s got no business smiling at her like that, as if he were somehow entitled.

“Really,” the bard said, and her voice was dangerously pleasant. “How flattering. You do seem to turn up again and again, despite the fact that I’ve told you I have no use for you or your cryptic so-called ‘advice’. What next? Will you be hiding under my bed? Peering in through my windows?”

Elminster gave a jolly good chuckle at this, and the condescending sound of it made red mist start rising in Edwin’s head. “I am not some old letch that follows thee around for the good of mine eyes, upstart,” Elminster said. “In fact, I…”

Edwin couldn’t contain himself any longer. “Oh no?” he asked, putting his best sarcastic edge into his voice. “And I suppose the reason that your eyes remain so firmly fixed anywhere but on her face must be that you’re checking to see she’s carrying no concealed weapons. (If he asks to do a full body search I will return the favor, and that stupid pointy hat will feature heavily in my plans.) Or are you simply too senile to remember your manners?” He was dimly aware of Imoen and Khalid trying to pull him back by his arms, but he didn’t really care.

Elminster chuckled again. “Temperamental, art thou not, young one?” he said. Then he ignored the Red Wizard and spoke to the bard again. “Perhaps it is that I have been a touch too mothering,” he said. “I think this can be excused, however, when compared to the zeal with which thy true parentage pursues thee. I trust thou dost suspect that thou art not ‘normal.’”

She’s a damn sight more ‘normal’ than you, you pointy-hatted, ancient, meddling old freak!

Zaerini replied before Edwin had the time to say what was on his mind however. “I think I can see what’s coming,” she said. “This would be the point where you make some dreadfully obscure remark about how my Evil is ‘bred in the bone’ and how I must maintain constant vigilance against it. And how I will have to face it, and how I should be on guard. Never once contributing any actually useful information of course. Well, I’ve got news for you. I already know exactly who my sire was, and who my brother is, no thanks to you. And I will deal with them my own way, in my own time, and preferably without you popping by to offer commentary on my performance. Now, kindly just bugger off and leave me alone!”

Elminster didn’t answer immediately, and Edwin found the look on his face extremely worrying. He’s looking at her as if…as if she is somehow his property. Or a dangerous animal. Something that needs to be controlled.

“Thou art being most discourteous,” the old wizard said, his eyes no longer twinkling. “It comes as no great surprise, sad as it is. Whether thou likest to believe it or not, there is bad blood in thee. I will not let that blood get the upper hand. I owe my old friend Gorion that, and thee as well.”

“Is that so?” Edwin snarled. “You threaten to kill her if she doesn’t conform to your wishes – as a favor to her?”

Jaheira cleared her throat, obviously worried by the increasing hostility in the air. “Perhaps we had better leave right now,” she said. Both the bard and the wizards ignored her.

Elminster was directing the full force of an icy glare at Edwin by now. “Thou wilt not interfere with this matter further, boy,” he said. “Thou art in possession of some small measure of talent, do not make me chastise thee for thy impudence.”

Edwin was so angry by now that he was almost forgetting to breathe. “You. Dare. Call. Me. That.” He hissed out the words, trying to think of some possible way in which he could be insured to live through a magical battle with the older wizard. He hadn’t come up with anything foolproof yet, but he was frankly too angry to care. And besides, I’m sure I could take him with my hands tied behind my back, my mouth gagged and with me being tied naked to an anthill. Of course I could. If only I knew the Time Stop spell… “You have no right to call me that, it is not for you. And neither is she. ‘Interfere’ with her again and I’ll make you wish you’d remained Mystra’s pleasure boy. (Speaking of that, unlike you I gained my ‘small measure of talent’ the hard way, not by hanging out with some sadly infatuated goddess with bad taste in men.)”

By now Elminster’s face was turning a dark purple, creating an unsettling contrast against his white beard. “You…will…pay…”

“Shut up, Grandpa,” Zaerini said, stepping between the two wizards. “If you so much as lay a finger on him I’ll string you up with your own unwashed beard.”

Jaheira was quite white, and she was moaning quietly. Yeslick and Khalid looked as if they wanted to sink through the ground. Imoen was looking worried, but that didn’t stop her from tapping a dagger casually against the palm of her hand, in a manner designed to intimidate, but contradicted by her wildly pink hair. “Sorry, big E,” she said. “I can’t let you hurt my friends.”

Elminster frowned briefly at her, and then he turned his attention to Zaerini again. Something seemed to pass briefly between them, but whatever it was it left him unsatisfied. His face grim and stony he started slowly chanting a spell.

There was no time to lose. To be honest Edwin knew he hadn’t got a single spell memorized that could hope to harm the elderly wizard. But he did have something else. A certain scroll, one he had found hidden in Durlag’s Tower. If his guesses about its purpose were correct, it should be just the thing. And much as he regretted having to use it up, it really couldn’t be helped. As surreptitiously as he could, Edwin pulled the scroll out, keeping it hidden from Elminster’s line of sight. Then he started casting it, as quickly as he dared, hoping to be able to outpace his opponent. I bet he’s not as dangerous as his reputation says, he thought. And even if he is, that doesn’t mean he’s invulnerable. Nobody is, that’s what Teacher Dekaras always says.

Edwin could feel sweat trickling down his face as he finished the spell, hoping for the best. For a few seconds nothing happened, and Elminster, a satisfied smile on his face, went on with the casting of something that sounded complicated and incredibly nasty. Please let it work. Please, please, please… And then there was a Sound. A faint and distant Sound, from somewhere far overhead. It was the whistling Sound of some large object rapidly approaching the ground, coupled with the loud and protesting Sound of said object as it realized where it was heading. Directly towards the ground, that was.

Elminster’s casting broke off. He craned his neck backwards to see what was happening. A faintly stunned expression spread across his face. “By Mystra’s Massive Mammaries…” he whispered in an almost inaudible voice.

WHAM! A very large and very unfortunate black-and-white cow made an ungraceful crash-landing on top of Elminster’s pointy hat, knocking him flat on the ground. The poor beast gave a last soulful and accusing ‘Mooh’ in Edwin’s direction, and then promptly expired. As for Elminster, the one thing that could be seen of him were his legs sticking out from under the cow, rather unattractively dressed in striped socks and red slippers. They weren’t moving.

There was a moment of deep silence.

“So that’s what a ‘Cow Kill’ spell does,” Edwin said. His voice sounded unnaturally brittle to his own ears. “How very interesting.”

“Is…is he dead?” Imoen asked, her voice a terrified whisper.

Jaheira carefully made her way over to the cow, her legs noticeably shaking. “He is not,” she said after having examined what could be seen of the fallen wizard. “I would not suggest lingering here for much longer. He will not be happy when he wakes up.”

“I agree,” Zaerini said fervently. “Let’s get out of here right now.”

Khalid moaned quietly. “We’re g-going to die,” he said in a hollow voice. “We’re a-all going to die…”

“Oh come on,” Imoen said. “It may not be that bad. Maybe we can explain…” The legs beneath the cow twitched faintly, and she broke off in the middle of a sentence. “Holy cow. Maybe not.”

As the party rapidly removed themselves from the scene, Edwin looked across his shoulder to see a small girl steal the slippers off Elminster’s feet. Somehow that seemed strangely appropriate. Then he forgot all about it as he found himself walking right next to Zaerini. The bard caught hold of his arm, and he could swear he felt his skin burning where her fingers touched him. She was smiling brightly at him, and it felt as if her golden eyes were staring straight into his very soul.

“That was a very generous thing you just did, Eddie,” she said, and Edwin felt the remnant of his rational thoughts scatter entirely as her smile widened a little more. She was close enough that he could smell her now, something light and spicy, and by now they were walking close enough that their hips touched briefly. Mnrrff… was all the thought Edwin’s stunned mind could produce.

“Huh?” he said, still staring into the half-elf’s eyes, and then instantly wanted to hit himself over the head with a club. Oh very smooth, Edwin. Do you want her to think you a lack-witted oaf?

Zaerini didn’t seem to mind however. “I know how much you treasured that scroll,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything like it, and we’ll probably never find one again. And yet you gave it up for my sake. I think that’s a beautiful thing to do.”

“Oh,” Edwin rambled on, almost tripping over his own words. “Well. Of course I had to do it, I couldn’t very well let that old coot get away with offending you…that is…with thinking that his divine connections make him invulnerable…that is…what I mean to say is…er…I…”

“And you leapt to my defense, risking your own life for my sake.”

“Um…yes, well…I…do have a contract to maintain after all and…” At this point Edwin’s brain entirely gave up on trying to invent excuses and he heard his mouth speaking on its own accord. “And I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing you hurt or in any way mistreated.”

The bard looked strangely shy when next she spoke, and her voice was filled with warmth. “Likewise,” she said. “I was ready to fight him barehanded to keep him from doing something nasty to you.” She reached up towards the wizard, and when she whispered into his ear her lips lightly brushed his skin, making him feel as if his head was about to suddenly implode. “Seeing a cow pound Elminster into the ground is one of the loveliest sights I’ve ever seen, and what you did was very sweet. I’ll never forget it, ever.”

“Mmrxzzpryft…” Edwin managed. His head seemed to have disconnected from his body entirely and was floating about somewhere in the clouds, and he didn’t mind one bit. Besides, judging by the radiant way the redhead next to him kept smiling at him, she didn’t seem to have too much trouble understanding his general sentiment.