In The Cards

The Rogue and The Wizard of Swords opposing is a potent and lethal combination, one likely to bring much destruction and devastation. It represents schemes within schemes, traps in your path, and deadly determination.

Excerpt from ‘The Chaltar Deck of Cards – An Introduction’

It wasn’t a dark and stormy night, unfortunately. It wasn’t entirely calm, the wind was just changing to a mild western one, but that was all right. The big problem was that it wasn’t as dark as one might have wished for, since the moon was almost full and the stars were clear.

But that can’t be helped, Dekaras thought as he hunched down by a door deep inside the Iron Throne complex. I really can’t afford to wait any longer. I’ll just have to be a little bit more careful when I leave, that’s all.

As he went to work on the poison dart trap cunningly concealed around the lock the assassin contemplated his plan. The idea had originally come to him back when he had read Sarevok’s diary. In one of the later chapters, the more or less raving ones, the warrior complained at length about something. Apparently, the man had a very strong inborn ability to resist magic, most likely due to his divine blood. He had grown so used to this that he had started to get very cocky, and certain that no mage could ever pose any kind of threat to him.

This hadn’t gone down well with Winski, who had decided to teach him a lesson that would hopefully help Sarevok stay alive. Dekaras smiled briefly to himself as he recalled the exact quote, almost able to hear Sarevok’s voice rumble indignantly.

And then Winski cast a spell on me, completely without warning. I could feel the change within my very body, as some of my strength seeped away, and when he cast another spell I suddenly found myself stuck to the floor! Tell me, Diary, how that is supposed to be fair? Winski of course was annoyingly smug about it all. ‘And that, my boy,’ he said, ‘is the ‘Lower Magical Resistance’ spell. Useful, wouldn’t you say? Perhaps now you’ll learn not to underestimate wizards.’

Hmpf. Maybe he’s right, but did he have to look that happy about it? He wouldn’t dispel the magic either, just said that he ‘wanted me to have some quiet time for reflection upon the danger of overconfidence’. I was stuck to that floor for two hours! That is not something the future Lord of Murder should have to put up with.

Even worse, Winski says that he has several of those scrolls in reserve and will make me practice against him at some later, unannounced date and I don’t want that. I think I’ll just go kill something now, that will improve my mood…

Winski certainly knew his business, Dekaras thought. He could vividly recall going through the exact opposite thing, as he demonstrated to a certain young, boastful and extremely eager Red Wizard exactly how dangerous it was for a mage to get caught in a situation where his magic was of no help. Such as, if somebody just happened to have nailed him with a stunning dart. Edwin, too, had complained about the unfairness of being given no warning, until Dekaras pointed out to him that it would be a very impractical assassin indeed who openly walked up to his intended victim to challenge him to a fair fight as long as he had any other means at his disposal. After that Edwin had got the point. Yes, Winski knows how to handle these things, Dekaras thought. He’s a man after my own heart and a pleasant conversationalist as well. It’s really a shame…

With the poison dart trap dealt with, the assassin went to work on the next one, an intricate Fireball trap that would have roasted him alive if he hadn’t spotted it. It’s strange how few people are cautious enough to have more than one trap on their door. I’d say he’s about as suspicious as I am.

Dekaras really would have preferred to be able to go after Sarevok himself, but the circumstances were hardly ideal for that. In direct combat I might be able to take him out, but the risk would be great. And if I were to try to take him from behind or from a distance I’d better be certain I could make it with one blow or it would become direct combat.

Poisoning might have worked, or killing Sarevok in his sleep. Unfortunately the warrior was more absent than present at the Iron Throne these days. He did sleep there occasionally, but then he spent the night with Tamoko and getting past both her and Sarevok would be as dangerous as fighting Sarevok outright. When he wasn’t at the Iron Throne, Sarevok was nowhere to be found. Dekaras had tried to trail him, and had managed to learn only that he teleported off somewhere in Winski’s company. That unknown place was where he spent most of his nights, and it was a dead end.

So Dekaras had decided to attempt to get to Sarevok via a more indirect route. The diary entry was a recent one, and he’d overheard Winski mentioning it to Sarevok in a way that hinted that those scrolls were still in his possession. Something to remove Sarevok’s magic resistance should be very useful, and it didn’t seem that there were any such scrolls available elsewhere in Baldur’s Gate. Winski probably had a private supplier. And then there was the other aspect. If Winski was present in his chambers this night…and if he could be slain…then Sarevok would be deprived of one of his most dangerous allies. Probably the most dangerous one, next to Tamoko. It would make Edwin’s task all the easier. And that in turn would hopefully see Edwin return to Thay in one piece.

I’m sorry about this, Winski, Dekaras thought. But I have a feeling you’d understand. We both do our best to look after our own after all.

With the door free of traps it didn’t take long to bypass the lock, and soon the assassin slipped inside Winski’s private chambers, being even more careful than usual not to make a sound. As it turned out, he needn’t have bothered. The wizard’s bedroom was silent and empty, and so were the adjoining rooms. Dekaras frowned to himself. This was most awkward. On one hand, Winski wasn’t here to disturb him. On the other hand, he really would have preferred to be certain that the mage was unable to disturb him – or indeed anybody else ever again. Where could he be? And how long would he be away? Still, there was no turning back now. He would only get this one chance to get at the spell scrolls, once Winski noticed that the traps and lock had been tampered with he would know that something was wrong. It couldn’t be helped; he would simply have to be quick about it.

The safe was situated exactly where he had spotted it before, during his unexpected conversation with Winski. The trap on it was a poison gas one, fairly basic. A bit too simple, Dekaras thought. I don’t like that. Cautiously he pulled the safe open, and then had to bite back a very nasty word as he looked inside. There was a large stack of spell scrolls inside, and he could see that the ones he wanted were indeed there. Most other thieves would already have grabbed them. However, most other thieves didn’t have the remains of mage sight to work with, and so would have been neatly incinerated as they triggered the powerful ward that completely covered the entrance to the safe. Yes, Winski is definitely as suspicious as I am. A very clever move. But you haven’t quite placed me in checkmate yet, wizard.

With a grimace of distaste the assassin withdrew an item from his pack. A spell scroll. I hate this. I really, really hate this. But I don’t see that I have much of a choice. Unrolling the scroll he felt a stab of self-loathing as he noticed that his fingers were shaking slightly. How pathetic. I really ought to be able to handle this better by now. Slowly, his face set in an expression that was part longing and part loathing, he started reading the scroll.

It wasn’t the same of course. Each time he had done this, and over the years he had been forced to do so a few times, each time he hoped it would be. Each time he had been disappointed. He could still remember the first time he had been able to push his mind to the point where he could utilize a spell scroll without actually having any magic within to draw upon. It wasn’t easy. In fact, it was damned difficult. But he had persevered, hoping against hope that it would replace the magic that had been stolen so long ago. And of course I was wrong, Dekaras thought as he intoned the last few words of the scroll. So very wrong. Yet what if once, just this once, it could be different…

As soon as he pointed at the warded safe and saw the magic release he knew that it wasn’t though. The magic worked all right, dissolving the ward completely. But it was dead magic, words trapped in enchanted paper. Nothing like the real thing, the magic that flows from within and sings in the soul. Nothing like it at all. As I should have known, the assassin thought, feeling a bitter taste in his mouth. As I should very well have known.

He never used scrolls if he could help it, and only carried a few for real emergency situations where nothing else would work. Not only was the constant disappointment hard to bear, it was dangerous to rely too much on borrowed magic. Far better to get by with his own skills. This particular spell had done what he intended it though. It wasn’t powerful enough that it could have disabled the large wards inside Oberon’s mansion the other night, but for this it was enough. Now he could simply…

And the assassin froze, his fingers hovering motionless over the stack of spell scrolls. He had almost missed that one. A ward behind the first ward, thin and very difficult to spot, but so powerful that the dispel hadn’t worked on it. It was worked into the scrolls themselves, and he cold tell that as soon as he touched them it would go off. Winski, I am impressed. Really impressed. That one almost got me.

Very much aware that the wizard could walk in at any moment Dekaras leaned forward to take a closer look at the ward. He couldn’t make out all the details, it was too small for that, but he did recognize that there was some sort of alarm set to trigger when the ward was activated. And there was something else…but nothing lethal. Of that he was as certain as he could be.

Let me see. What do my available options seem to be? I can get the scrolls, trigger the alarm, and warn Winski, and perhaps something else as well. Dangerous, but not impossible if I prepare accordingly. Or I could just leave right now. But then I waste this chance, and there is not much time left before Edwin has to deliver as promised to his superiors. If he’s supposed to convince the girl, Sarevok needs to be gone first, which means we need every possible advantage. The alternative would be killing Zaerini instead, but that would also take some time, and I have made no plans for it. Or I could kill the wizards, but that still wouldn’t solve the problem, it simply would make it worse. More agents would come, and we would be exiles even if we managed to survive. No. I will finish what I have started. This opportunity is too valuable to pass up.

He hadn’t been able to bring along any really large traps of course, and hadn’t expected to have to use them anyway. But he did carry a few minor ones, for emergency purposes. Of course, the trick was picking the right spot to set them. A couple were placed near the door, and the others were scattered in likely spots around the room. Having opened the window he made certain that it would be possible to get out that way if necessary. The drop was a high one, but there was a balcony near by, and from there the roof was easily accessible. Finally he was ready. The ward shimmered tantalizingly in front of him. Beautiful work. Really beautiful.

Banishing all stray thoughts from his mind he reached inside, hoping that he’d been right about the ‘non-lethal’ part. A clear bell tone rang out and echoed throughout the room. The alarm, as expected. But what about the other part of the spell?

And then silver light, like woven moonbeams, spread through the air, shimmering and forming a very distinct shape. Ah. A portal. That is not so good. Winski Perorate stepped through the portal, his gaunt face tense and angry, his eyes scanning the room for the intruder he knew had to be there. What he hadn’t been expecting was stepping onto something metallic, something that immediately bit into his leg like a set of cold and very sharp teeth. As he cried out in sudden pain, a magical shield sprang into existence around him, making him temporarily impervious to all weapons. Across the room he suddenly met the eyes of the assassin who was even now moving to escape. The wizard’s normally hollow and emotionless eyes suddenly glinted with anger, fear, and most of all recognition.

Not wasting time with words, the mage started chanting a spell, even as Dekaras dove for the window. Then he interrupted himself as the poison on the spikes worked its way into his bloodstream and nearly choked him, keeping him from casting the spell. But he tore himself lose, and he was moving now, trying to intercept.

Just a little further and I’ll be out of range, Dekaras thought as he leapt for the adjoining balcony. Just a little further…

Cold stone railing beneath his hands now, and he was almost up, almost…

And then there was the heady smell of ozone in the air, and a blinding white light, seconds before he even felt the pain. A wand, he just barely managed to think before he felt his body spasm and contort with the sudden shock. He has a wand.

The magic tore through him, seeking out the void within, intensifying the pain. It had been that way ever since he’d been robbed of his own magical ability, unfortunately. An increased sensitivity, not to such spells that could be counteracted by willpower, but to those that caused direct physical injury. It was almost as if the old wound to his spirit drew the hostile magic and intensified it. Whatever the reason for it, the lightning bolt was bloody painful, far more so than should have been possible from a simple wand. Every nerve-ending screaming with raw pain he fell, and despite the agony he was all too aware of just how far it was to the dark waters of the harbor below. Then there was only blackness.