In The Cards

If you want to separate the nice religious people from the nasty ones, here’s a hint. The ones who call you ‘evil infidel’ and try to disembowel, burn or otherwise kill you in weird rituals are bad enough, but the ones you really want to watch out for are the persistent ones who knock on your door and refuse to stop preaching at you or telling you about how your soul is doomed unless you give them a Fireball in the face.

Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’

Ulgoth’s Beard was a small fishing village to the northeast of Baldur’s Gate, and it was here that Zaerini led her friends next. Not just because of her foretelling either. She reasoned that Sarevok would expect her to rush off after him at once, and it would be safer to do whatever he didn’t expect her to do. Also, while still in Baldur’s Gate she had heard from Halbazzer Drin, the proprietor of the Sorcerous Sundries, that the inn of Ulgoth’s Beard had quite a few interesting magical items for sale, more than might be expected in a small village. She wanted to be well prepared when she faced Sarevok and it seemed like a good idea to check them out and restock supplies before returning to Baldur’s Gate. Particularly since she would most likely be wanted for Reiltar’s murder and unable to peacefully walk about shopping.

Her friends had readily agreed to this. There had been something very odd about Edwin’s reaction though. The wizard had asked how many days she thought had passed since leaving Baldur’s Gate, and how many days she thought it would take to go directly back without delay. Upon hearing the answer he had looked away, and his face had become momentarily closed. “Then…I agree,” he said. “It makes no difference to me. (It is too late anyway. I cannot turn back. The road is closed behind me.)”

She had attempted to ask him what was the matter, but he would give no proper answers, and eventually she had to give up. Or at least to put the matter aside for the moment. The bard gave Edwin another worried glance as they approached Ulgoth’s Beard, the tenth one in as many minutes. The wizard was being unusually quiet, and he was constantly touching the amulet he carried around his throat with his immaculately manicured fingers. She hadn’t paid much attention to it before, but now she saw that it had a gem at the center, a ruby so dark that it was almost black, and there seemed to be writing around it, though the words were unfamiliar to her. “What is that?” she asked. “It’s really beautiful.”

Edwin startled, and let the amulet disappear inside his robe. “It…was supposed to bring me luck,” he said. For a moment he seemed to be looking at something far in the distance, his eyes filled with longing. “It was a gift. A gift of maturity.”

“Oh. I see. From your family?”

The wizard didn’t look her in the eyes. “Yes. I mean no. In a way. I…I really don’t wish to discuss this further. It’s personal.”

Rini nodded. “All right,” she said. “I won’t pry.” Then she took his hand and squeezed it gently. “But you know, Eddie…when you do want to talk about it I’ll always be happy to listen.”

Edwin smiled briefly, and some of the old fire returned to his eyes. “Thank you, Hellkitten,” he said. “Of course, I, being a skilled wizard of devastating genius, am perfectly able to deal with any troubles that may arise. But if I should, for some unfathomable reason, need aid with something, you will definitely be the first to know.”

Ulgoth’s Beard seemed a pleasant little place, with its low houses and fresh sea air. That is, it seemed like a pleasant little place right up until the point where the group of people with the fixed smiles, glassy eyes and sharp weapons came walking up to Rini and her friends. Some of them were wearing swords and armor, other mage robes. There were a few common themes in their apparel though. For one thing, all of them were carrying around prayer beads, but the beads were all shaped like little skulls. Then there was the symbol they all had painted in blood on their foreheads. Zaerini wasn’t sure exactly what it was supposed to be, but simply looking at it made her skin crawl. The ugly face that they all had embroidered on their chests or the backs of their cloaks was also enough to give her nightmares. It looked a bit like the offspring of an octopus and a horse that had died months ago, with a hint of rotting rabbit thrown in for good measure. It also had glowing red eyes. Their clothes were also liberally decorated with mystical symbols matching the one on their foreheads, as well as with sequins. Lots and lots and lots of sequins. Gods, they have worse dress sense than Sarevok.

“Oh good,” Rini said, “a secret cult. I always wonder how they expect to stay secret with all those blatantly obvious recognition signs and symbols.”

One of the cultists stepped up to her, his unblinking eyes fixed on her, his smile very wide. “Your souls shall be fodder,” he said in a pleasant voice by way of greeting.

In the background the other cultists hummed with delight and chanted ‘Ommmmm….’

“And hello to you too,” Rini said, shaking her head. “Looks like we’ve stumbled onto another gathering of crazies…”

Edwin smirked. “For some reason, I get the impression that these aren’t the type of cultists that will be satisfied with trying to sell us paper flowers for outrageous sums of money while chanting about the oneness of all. (But on the upside, that means we get to kill them in an appropriately gruesome manner, and I could do with some cheering up.)”

Jaheira glared darkly at the cultists. “Stand aside,” she commanded. “We do not have the time for this sort of foolishness.”

The leader still didn’t blink. “Foul heathens,” he said, still in that pleasant voice. “You are the ones who have retrieved the dagger ‘Soultaker’ from Durlag’s Tower. Our visions have shown it to us. You must give me the dagger now, or you will be sacrificed for the glory of our rising god.”

“C-come now,” Khalid protested. “Isn’t there a w-way we can resolve this without threats of physical v-violence?”

The cultist shook his head. “No. You will give us the dagger, or we will make your blood run like rivers, feast upon the tender jellies of your eyes, make sausages of your intestines, holy tomes of your skin and grind your bones to dust. And that is just the beginnings of the Evening Service. Then we will make Sister Eugenia sing the Holy Chants to your broken spirits, and let me tell you, that woman is painfully tone-deaf. The dagger, if you please.”

“Gee,” Rini said in a thoughtful voice. “I have to think about this.” She took out the dagger from Durlag’s Tower, letting the light of the setting sun reflect in the dark pommel jewel. The hilt felt unusually heavy in her hand, heavy and warm like a living thing. “You want me to give you this, or you’ll torture and kill us, is that it?”

“Yes! Give it to me now!”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, yes, YES!”

“As you wish then.” With that, the redheaded half-elf quickly thrust her hand forward and buried the dagger to the hilt in the man’s belly. With a normal weapon it would have been a painful and potentially lethal wound, but not an instantly deadly one. However, hardly had the cultist begun to scream before the bleeding wound started smoking violently, the skin shriveling and blackening around it. The shrieks turned faint as the dieing man slumped to the ground, smoke by now pouring out of his mouth and nostrils as well.

Zaerini didn’t have many seconds to stare at the result of her blow. The other cultists shrieked with rage and charged her, and in a moment all was chaos around her, the smell of blood strong in her nostrils as the battle raged. She sent a flame arrow into the face of a cultist mage trying to chant a spell, then had to duck a mace swung by an armored warrior. She was vaguely aware of Yeslick’s hammer smashing in the head of a man trying to impale her on a spear, of Jaheira and Khalid fighting back to back close by her and of Imoen trying to get behind them where she could safely fire her arrows. Swarms of glowing red orbs shot from Edwin’s fingers, sparkling and hissing, as the Red Wizard attempted to keep the enemy wizards from successfully casting their spells. She turned to aid him, and then there was a sharp and burning pain at her side, as a stone-faced man in leather armor lunged at her from behind.

Fighting to draw breath, the bard tried to get her sword out, but the pain was too bad. And then, something deep within her shifted and awakened. She could feel her face…melting? Transforming certainly, taking on the aspect of another. It was the face of her opponent, a perfect resemblance, down to the holy symbol on her forehead. Faced with his own image, the man took a step backwards in surprise, giving Rini the time she needed in order to retaliate. A Magic Missile of her own struck the cultist, and as he staggered away he was neatly skewered on Khalid’s great sword.

Rini sat on the ground, wincing not so much from the pain of the wound Jaheira was healing as from the steady stream of scolding streaming from the druid’s mouth. “Reckless…foolhardy…suicidal…”

“Look Jaheira, they would have attacked us anyway!”

“Hotheaded…unbalanced…as if I do not have better things to do than to patch you up after your little stunts!”

“They wanted the dagger, they meant to kill us with or without it. Everything is fine. Stop grouching.”

“Say,” Imoen suddenly said, halting her search of the corpses. “Speaking of the dagger…where did it go?”

Rini turned her head. The corpse of the cultist leader still lay there, a charred and black mass, but there was no sign of the ‘Soultaker’. “Oh great! Somebody stole it.”

“One o’ the others,” Yeslick said, scratching his blond beard. “One or two got away.”

“This is serious,” Jaheira said, her green eyes stern. “These people meant to summon some sort of evil entity with that dagger. We should put a stop to it.”

“This would be the ugly thing whose picture they were all wearing?” Edwin asked. “The one with all the dangling bits, and the horns, and the red eyes? The one that looked like some sort of incredibly dangerous demon from the deepest layers of the Abyss? (Come to think of it, it also bore a close resemblance to Aunt Elfrida. Except with more teeth.)”

Jaheira nodded. “That would be the one, yes.”

The wizard’s eyes practically glowed with excitement. “Perfect!” he crowed. “I’ve always wanted to partake in a demon summoning. This is a great opportunity to learn how to properly harness the dark powers of the Nether Realms. ( I am ready. I know it.)”

Jaheira looked wildly incredulous. “You…you want to see a demon summoned?”

“Of course!” Edwin looked himself over, apparently satisfied with what he saw. “Good thing I got that new robe. It wouldn’t do to be underdressed for the occasion. Though of course I am always magnificent, charming and devilishly handsome even was I dressed in rags, and fairly oozing charm and devastating charisma.”

Kitten, Softpaws said as she gave Edwin a look that matched Jaheira’s, you’d better keep an eye on him. He’s acting even sillier than usual.

I know, Rini said, her eyes filled with warmth as she watched the wizard preening. Isn’t it adorable?

“I suppose we’d better go and steal that dagger back,” she said out loud.

“Yeah,” Imoen said. “We can’t let those people use it to do bad stuff!”

“I suppose…and I really don’t like people robbing me, you know.”

Finding the cultists’ secret headquarters turned out to be surprisingly easy. It seemed that every single inhabitant of Ulgoth’s Beard knew exactly where they were located. Not that surprising once you really thought about it, Rini thought, given the cultists’ taste for flashy apparel. Before entering, she tried out the new trick she had learnt while using the essence of Bhaal within her. She could imitate the looks of people she had seen before, she found, though there were certain limits. For example, she might look like a strong man, but it was only his looks that she got, not the physical strength. And she could only imitate humanoids, and only for a short while. If she tried to keep it up for more than a few minutes she got a dreadful headache, and eventually lost control of it. Still, it was a handy skill to have, and she might be able to increase it later on.

Right now she used it to once again look like a cultist, something that helped take the fanatics inside by surprise. The battle was fierce, but eventually all the cultists lay dead. The house was mostly bare of furniture, but there was a stairway in one corner, leading down into a dark basement, and from below she could hear the penetrating sound of chanting. “So,” Zaerini said. “Let’s go see what this party is all about…”