In The Cards

There is one skill that is very important in many professions, but is invaluable to the aspiring rogue. That is the ability to ignore rules when necessary. You may have learnt exactly how to backstab a certain type of foe, for example, but what do you do if he happens to be wearing a new suit of enchanted armor impervious to your weapon? In this case you must forget about what you’ve learnt and seek an alternate solution, such as hiding in his room until he falls asleep and then smothering him with his own pillow. Use your imagination and let what you’ve learnt be guidance, not a strangling noose. Not that there’s anything wrong with nooses.

Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’

The estate of Oberon was located in the very center of Baldur’s Gate, not far from the Ducal Palace itself. It was a large pink monstrosity, and the Flaming Fist patrolled the streets surrounding it regularly. Like guards in most places they knew perfectly well that there were certain areas of the city where they’d rather not be at night, since they would risk running into dangerous lawbreakers. This wasn’t such an area though, and so far Imoen had had to avoid several Fist soldiers. Not that there was an actual law against walking the streets near the homes of the wealthy at night, but she wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d made one up for her benefit.

On the other side of the carnival across from the mansions lay something that the pink-haired thief found almost equally fascinating. A carnival, currently closed for the night, but she could still see the interesting shapes of tents, animal cages and all sorts of interesting swings and stuff. I’ll have to ask Rini if we can go there. Maybe tomorrow. Hm, maybe I can have some fun right now…

Satisfied with this pleasant idea Imoen climbed over the temporary fence surrounding the square where the carnival currently lodged. It wasn’t long before she had managed to find a set of swings. Just regular ones, not the big gnome-enhanced ones, but she was beginning to get good speed out of them already. Wheeee! This is great! Feels almost like flying! Oh look, I can see the sky beneath my feet. I wonder what it would feel like if you could walk on the clouds. Pretty stars tonight too. Let’s see…there’s the Lady. And the Dragon. The Sickle. The River. The swing was moving slowly and gently by now, which was probably a good thing since Imoen’s entire attention was fixed on the stars. “I wonder what that one is called…” she said to herself, spotting a constellation that she didn’t recognize.

“It’s called ‘The Girl Who Got Killed From Letting Herself Get Surprised’.”

Imoen gasped and had to clutch the ropes to the swing tightly in order not to fall off. “Adahn! I didn’t see you there! Are you all right? I mean with the vampire and all?”

“Obviously you didn’t see me.” The dark shape of the older rogue was standing nearby, almost invisible in the shadows next to a strange contraption that could have been either a torture-instrument or some sort of entertainment ride. Something about his stance definitely made it seem more ominous than humorous. He had pulled his hood up so she couldn’t make out much of his face, but he sounded clearly amused. “And yes, I am fine. Have you finished playing yet?”

“Sure!” Imoen said as she jumped off the swing, smiling brightly at her friend. “Unless you want a go? It’s really fun…”

“I think I’ll pass, thank you. For somebody in our line of work ‘swinging’ tends to carry unpleasant associations with it. I’ve promised myself to avoid it if at all possible. Which constellation were you wondering about, by the way?”

Imoen pointed. “That one. The one with the big sort of greenish star at one end.”

Adahn looked up. “That would be The Fox, but you can’t see it very clearly right now. Still, not too bad. It’s supposed to bring cunning and guile, if you believe in that sort of thing.”

“You don’t?”

“Of course not. The stars don’t make our luck for us. We have to do that ourselves, not counting Tymora’s possible blessings.”

Imoen sighed. “I guess you’re right. They sure are beautiful though.” I’m stargazing with him! Well, sort of anyway. Maybe it’s not a true romantic moment, but it’s definitely a Moment all the same.

“Yes,” Adahn agreed. “But this is really nothing. In the city, there are far too many bright lights for you to see them properly.” He paused, and when he spoke again there was an oddly wistful note to his voice. “Once you have spent a night alone on the plains, with nothing but a sea of grass around you and the vast sky overhead – then you will know how stars can really look.”

“Wow…you’re really lucky to have seen that.”

Adahn gave the sky one last look, but he didn’t answer her directly, and his face remained hidden. “Perhaps,” he simply said. “Now tell me more about Oberon.”

Imoen, still puzzled at his odd mood, went on to once again describe how the nobleman Oberon currently had given the three daughters of the powerful wizard Shandalar leave to use his estate to guard three valuable artifacts, a gem, a holy statue and a special spellbook. These artifacts were ingredients crucial to the construction of a Halruuan Skyship, and naturally the wizards of Halruua weren’t pleased about the thought of their treasured secret leaking out. “So I’m supposed to fetch them,” Imoen explained.

“And what of these daughters? Do you know anything about them?”

“They’re supposed to be wizards as well.”

“I see.” Adahn put a hand on Imoen’s shoulder, and she felt certain that she was blushing again. “You do realize that if they should manage to discover us we may have to kill them?”

Imoen swallowed heavily. “I…I suppose if they try to kill us first…but…but we won’t do it unless we absolutely have to, right? Right?”

The older rogue smiled briefly. “No. Killing them needlessly serves no purpose; it would only cause a stir among the Fist. And besides, you aren’t going to get paid for it. We will only do it if it’s necessary.”

“Oh. I…I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

A short while later Imoen was examining the lock to Oberon’s estate, all the time nervously expecting to hear a Flaming Fist soldier raise the alarm. The two rogues had waited until they’d just seen a guard pass by, so there shouldn’t be another for some time, but they couldn’t be certain. “What if the Fist come?” she whispered.

“Then we avoid them,” Adahn calmly said and watched over her shoulder. “Carry on.”

“But what if we can’t?”

“Then we deal with them otherwise.”

“But…”

“Of course, if you don’t focus on that lock we will both die from old age before that happens.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

The lock was certainly a difficult one, and Imoen started to feel nervous beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, she got it open. Inside, the house was dark and silent. Unfortunately, it was also vast. Imoen looked about the vast expanse of floor and the seemingly endless pieces of furniture with some despair. There seemed to be any number of places where three small and valuable objects could be hidden. “Not really,” Adahn said once she voiced this doubt. “Think about it. They must be in a safe place, or what the mages think is a safe place. So the first thing we should do is…?”

“Er…I…”

“To try to find guards, traps or dangerous beasts that may indicate the presence of something really valuable of course. Really, you should have been able to guess that. I think we’ll go upstairs first, in case the things are hidden in these three women’s bedrooms. And try not to make too much noise. Wizardesses tend to be cranky when woken up.”

Imoen swallowed. “Right,” she said. “Upstairs it is then.” After carefully making her way upstairs, disarming several traps in the wall along the staircase as she did so, Imoen eventually found herself inside a dark bedroom, crammed with heavy books. There were books everywhere. In the overflowing shelves, on the desk and the chairs, in stacks and heaps all over the floor. This is a nightmare, Imoen thought. If the spellbook is one of these, how can I possibly hope to find it? Then, slowly, she turned around to see the dark shape in the bed. The woman was sleeping, breathing quietly and deeply, her brown hair flowing out across the pillow. And she was holding something in her hand, half hidden beneath the pillow. A book. Carefully, oh so carefully, the pink-haired thief knelt by the bed, hardly daring to breathe. She could just about make out the golden letters along the pink-leather spine of the book. ‘Passionate Pirates – Tamara’s Release’, by Cyrindipita Luscious. Oh drat, Imoen thought. Figures that it was too good to be true. Hey…’Passionate Pirates’…I haven’t read that one yet. I wonder if I could get it without her noticing…

And then Imoen felt Adahn’s hand brush hers in warning, and she hastily pulled back. Oops…mustn’t forget myself. Focus, Immy, focus. Let’s see…hey! What’s that? She had spotted another book, this one tucked into the crook of the sleeping woman’s arm. This one wasn’t a romance novel. It was big and dark, and there were little woodcuts of horrible leering faces all along the spine. And yes, there was the title. ‘Harnessing the Wind’. That was the one she wanted. But how to get it without waking the wizardess up? She was just contemplating this when her companion leaned in closer to her. “When you hear a noise, hold your breath and count to twenty,” he whispered into her ear, so quietly that it was almost inaudible. Imoen nodded, suppressing a sigh. His lips actually touched my ear…it’s so unfair that he’s taken. If he weren’t, I might have persuaded him to nibble it, like Lothar Mondragon did with the tempestuous maiden Celestina in ‘And Her Bodice Ripped In Twain’.

Adahn moved closer towards the bed, silent as a shadow, and then there was the faint sound of some tiny glass object breaking and something sharp stung Imoen’s nostrils. She obediently held her breath and counted slowly to twenty.

“She won’t raise the alarm now,” Adahn said quietly. “You can get the book.”

Imoen gave the woman in the bed a worried look. “You…you didn’t…”

“Kill her? No. She’s just drugged. She’ll wake up in ten hours with a bad headache. Unfortunately I only had one of these or we could do the same to her sisters. Now get the book.”

Imoen smiled and stuffed the spellbook into her backpack. After thinking a moment she let ‘Passionate Pirates’ make it company. I’ve been waiting ages for the new Cyrindipita Luscious novel…I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t get it when I had the chance. Heh, for a second there I thought he meant to kill her. Silly. He said he wouldn’t do that unless it was necessary, after all.

“Passionate Pirates?” Adahn said in a very emotionless voice.

“Well…I…”

“Never mind. It’s your business. However, as I have met actual live pirates I feel it is my duty to warn you that the sort of passions they normally exhibit are not the kind you’d want to be exposed to. Just thought you ought to know.” He then walked out of the room while shaking his head, murmuring something that sounded like ‘At least she isn’t trying to summon up demons.’

Bedroom number two and three contained sleeping wizardesses, but no trace of any magical artifacts other than normal spell components and spellbooks. Imoen did take the opportunity to pocket some nice jewelry though, and she noticed that her companion seemed particularly interested in the loose scrolls lying around here and there, though he only kept a few. Then however, they found the Gem Room. Imoen had no idea what the room was ordinarily used for, and she didn’t really care. What mattered was that once she had worked her way through all the ten cunning traps and intricate locks on the door her fingers ached with exhaustion, as did her shoulders and back. “You are far too tense,” Adahn whispered. “You need to relax more, then you won’t get tired so easily.”

A bit morosely Imoen wondered if she would ever be able to be that relaxed while disarming dangerous traps with sleeping mages close by. And then she completely forgot about that as the door opened and she beheld the Gem Room. The artifact kept here was a glowing green rock, and it sat on a stone pedestal on the other side of the room, without so much as a glass case around it. However, it didn’t really need one, as the entire floor of the room was covered with a thick mass of writhing green snakes, all of them hissing threateningly. “Uh-Oh…” she whispered. “Now what?”

Adahn watched the snakes closely, frowning. “I think I’ve seen something like this before…yes. There it is. Look at the snakes again. And this time, really look.”

Imoen obediently looked, unsure of what it was she was supposed to see. Snakes. Lots of identical green snakes, moving as if in a dance together, all at once… “That’s strange…” she said. “They all move at the same time.”

Her companion gave her an approving smile. “Yes. Very good. Now follow my lead.” With that he calmly walked straight into the heap of hissing snakes that reached him almost to his knees at times. Strangely enough he didn’t seem the least bit impeded by them. Eventually he stopped, waving for Imoen to follow him.

This is so insane, Imoen thought. But if he wants me to do it…Then she followed her instructor into the snakes, hardly daring to breathe. That’s strange. I can’t feel a thing. It’s…it’s as if they…aren’t really there. “It’s an illusion, isn’t it?” she whispered. “They aren’t real.”

“Exactly. See how they all move at once? That is the clue that tells you they’re fake.” Adahn paused. “Except of course for the one snake that’s real. They had to use something for a template after all.”

“Real? Real?!”

“Don’t worry. I always carry some antidote with me.”

“But…”

“But we shouldn’t have to use it. Far better to turn the tables, so to speak. See if you can spot where in the room that the snakes seem to have clearer colors and are less fuzzy.”

Imoen squinted. “I think…over there,” she eventually said, pointing.

“Yes, that seems about a right. Just a moment.” The black-haired rogue waded through the mass of snakes and then bent down. There was a brief hiss, a cracking sound, and then all the snakes suddenly disappeared. Every one except the one that currently limply hung from Adahn’s dagger of course. Poor thing, Imoen thought. But I wouldn’t have wanted to risk stepping on it, antidote or no antidote. “There we are,” Adahn said in a satisfied voice. “Now let’s take a look at that gem, shall we?”

The gem in question lay peacefully on its small pedestal. Imoen was just about to reach out for it when she noticed the hair-thin crack encircling the top of the pedestal. “I think there may be a trap,” she said.

Adahn nodded. “So it seems. A pressure plate. One of the most common types of trap. And the best way to deal with a pressure plate is?”

Imoen thought furiously. “Er…you can wedge it. But I can’t see a good place to place a wedge.” There had been another way, she was certain she had read of it. “Or…or…”

“Yes?”

“Or…or…”

“Take your time. No rush. I’m sure the mages are sleeping peacefully.”

“Or…or you can switch the object you want for a bag of sand!” Imoen said triumphantly, just barely managing to keep her voice down.

“Yes. Excellent. And do you have a bag of sand with you?”

Imoen hung her head. “Um…no.”

“I’m not surprised. Few people do. Perhaps you should try thinking of an alternative option then.”

Imoen looked wildly about the room. She needed something small, the same size as the gem. And the same weight of course. The gems she had filched from the bedrooms were far too small, and besides she really didn’t want to give them up unless she had to. And then she had an idea. Crazy and icky it might be, but it might just work. Resolutely she held out her hand. “Snake”, she said.

Her fingers weren’t trembling, but they felt as if they were. Still, she had made it. Imoen turned to look at the small green head sitting forlornly on the pedestal where the gem had been, keeping its trap from activating. “I did it!” she whispered. “Wasn’t I good? Huh? Wasn’t I great?”

“It was satisfactory,” Adahn said. Then he smirked at her. “Very creative. And you saved me a valuable resource.” With that he took out a small cloth bag from an invisible pocket and handed it to Imoen. The girl undid the strings and touched the contents. They were white, fine and very smooth.

“Sand? But…but why didn’t you tell me?”

Adahn raised an eyebrow at her. “You didn’t ask. And besides…I wanted to see if you could manage to think of something on your own, and you did. As I said, it was very creative. And I’m sure you feel better knowing that you did it yourself.”

Imoen smiled. “Yeah…I suppose I do. Thanks. Thanks a lot.” The warm glow of happiness inside her lasted until she and her friend reached what seemed to be an empty room. Well, almost empty. At the far side there was a big class case, and inside that Imoen could glimpse what seemed to be a very ugly statue. There didn’t seem to be any traps on the floor either, and she was just about to head into the room when she felt Adahn grasp her tightly by the collar.

“Hold,” he whispered into her ear. “We have a serious problem here.”

“Huh? What’s up? There aren’t any traps, are there?”

“Not as such, no.” The older rogues sharp face was very tense as he stared at what seemed to be empty air. “You may not be able to see them, but I am. The very air of this room is crisscrossed by magical wards.”