In The Cards

Our favorite treasures and keepsakes carry many memories with them, perhaps even a part of ourselves. Certainly, they may help you discover many secrets about the person you wish to know better, sometimes so many that it feels as if they are speaking straight to your soul.

Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’

The Iron Throne building looked as she remembered it, a huge stone colossus, gray and cold. Zaerini could practically feel the cold radiating from the very stones of it. She looked up at the banners flapping in the wind and shivered slightly. I can do this. If I don’t, then Reiltar will have won. And I won’t let him.

“Child,” Jaheira said in a low voice, sounding concerned. “Are you certain you are up to this?”

The redheaded half-elf shrugged slightly. “When can we ever be certain of things like that?” she said with a wry smile. “I…suppose I am as ready as I can be. Come on.”

Strangely enough, there were no guards at the door. The cool semi-darkness of the opulent halls actually might almost have felt serene, if it hadn’t been for the nervous tension in the air. Merchants and guards were milling about more or less aimlessly, none of them seeming interested in stopping the adventurers. They were even given directions to Sarevok’s chambers.

The employees of the Iron Throne seemed highly upset, when asked a few questions. Sarevok was neglecting the business side of things it seemed, making seemingly insane and unreasonable decisions. They might indeed seem insane to those who couldn’t understand his reasons. Rini could though, only too well.

Of course he doesn’t care about the Iron Throne anymore. It has served its purpose. Now he wants to become Grand Duke…and once he is done with that, a god. Gods have no need of a steady job on the mortal plane.

And now she stood outside her brother’s door, her hand on the handle, almost afraid to step inside. It had taken Imoen a good half an hour to pick the lock, as well as to disarm a particularly nasty poison trap. What’s to be afraid of? That servant we talked to earlier told us that Sarevok isn’t here right now. This is just a room.

But it wasn’t. It was the room of Gorion’s killer, the one who was trying to kill her as well, the room of her brother. As much as she wanted to find out more about him, she was also afraid to do so. But I can’t let that stop me.

Once the adventurers went inside the room, they stood for a few minutes, looking about. “How strange,” Imoen said, her voice pensive. “It seems so…normal. I mean…I guess I thought there’d be spikes on everything. Or portraits of Bhaal on the walls. Or…or something!”

Rini nodded. She could understand what her friend meant, in a way. She knew Sarevok as a highly imposing armored figure with glowing eyes; it seemed somehow…weird…that he would sleep in a bed like a normal human being and not on a giant stone slab, or in a coffin. But apparently he did. A nice canopy bed it was too, and it looked very comfortable. It was also very large, probably a necessary thing in Sarevok’s case. Softpaws immediately jumped onto it, settled down on the pillow and started purring loudly.

I suppose that would be one way of opposing Sarevok – getting cat hairs all over his pillow.

There was a big armoire as well, filled with clothes, a couch, a table and a few chairs. An adjoining room apparently functioned as a study, and there was a desk and a couple of bookshelves, most of the books being on the topics of warfare and battle techniques. One notable exception was a slim volume containing some form of Kara-Turan poetry. A present from Tamoko, I guess. My brother doesn’t seem the type to buy poetry on his own.

One of the poems had been book marked. Zaerini took a closer look at it, curious to see what it was about. Alien as the type of poetry was to her, the emotions conveyed were still the same.

The snow on the high mountains,
The simple blade of grass,
Know peace.

The bard read the poem, not quite sure what to think of this. Peace…I certainly don’t know that. Neither does Sarevok, I’m sure. Not that I think he wants to. Is that what Tamoko was trying for, I wonder? To try to make him desire it?

Interesting as the poetry book was, that wasn’t why she had come here. She wanted information, if any was to be found. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem that her brother wanted to make things easy for her.

“Nothing here,” Imoen said after conducting a thorough search of the desk. She turned to the bookshelf, but without success.

“Can’t you hurry up?” Edwin said. He was looking rather nervous. “Sarevok may walk in at any moment. And if he does, we’d better have a really good excuse for going through his personal effects. (And not the one about wanting to help organize his shelves. That didn’t work the time I used it. I…I still remember the scolding.)”

“Come on, that servant told us that Sarevok would be gone all afternoon, we have plenty of time…”

Rini didn’t intervene with the argument. She was…sensing something, and she wasn’t sure exactly what it was. It was almost as if she was seeing through somebody else’s eyes.

Walking in through the door, through this very door, cradling a fragile object in a hand that might easily break bones. It was a snow globe, containing a scene of a pretty winter landscape, a small house, a distant forest, and a pair of children playing in the snow. As a child, he had liked to pretend that he was one of them, happy and flushed from the game, about to be called inside at any moment, inside to the warm house where the rest of the family awaited. Mother had kept it in her bedroom, and she had let him play with it whenever he wanted. Now, there were stains of blood on the pure glass, though he had managed to wipe most of it away. She had been beaten at first…and then the garotte. Miraculously, the snow globe had remained untouched. He would make certain that it remained that; he wouldn’t put it past Reiltar to smash it.

Bending down, he touched a certain floorboard, moving it aside. His secret hiding place, ever since he was a child. The precious snow globe would be safe here; its perfect and happy little world inside the glass globe would be safe from harm. Such a world was an illusion, he knew that now. There was no safety, no haven, and no peace. No mother. No more. Now, there was only him. Him and his Father.

“Lass?” Yeslick was saying, sounding extremely worried as he tugged at her sleeve. “Are ye all right?”

Rini nodded absently. Moving almost as if in a trance, she crossed the floor, then bent down. That one floorboard. Yes, that was the one. Her fingers slid across it as if she had done it many times before, pressing at exactly the right spot. “There will be a snow globe inside…” she said in a quiet voice.

“How do you know?” Jaheira asked.

“I…I just do.” The bard stuck her hand inside the narrow space beneath the floorboard, not the least bit surprised when her fingers touched cool glass. When she pulled her hand out again, she held a round object in her palm. It was dusty, but still easily recognizable. As she turned it over, snow gently whirled down over a peaceful landscape, a homey cottage, and two children playing in the snow. A boy and a girl. Once…he wanted this. Once. Could he want it again, I wonder?

“That,” Edwin said, “was very, very disturbing. You aren’t about to start vomiting pea soup or making your head spin in circles, are you? Or speaking in a demonic bass voice? Or start tearing off all your clothes and making exotic suggestions? (Though come to think of it, that last part might be very pleasant…)”

“Eddie, whatever are you going on about?” Rini said, staring incredulously at the wizard.

The Red Wizard looked a little embarrassed, but he clearly wasn’t about to let go of the topic. “You were acting very strangely. I thought you might be possessed. Staring at nothing, muttering to yourself like that…”

“Muttering to myself? ME?”

Edwin nodded. “I am not a priest, so I do not know the proper procedure for an exorcism, but perhaps Yeslick does. (Although, I really would like to wait until after the exotic imitation of a succubus.)”

Yeslick hastily backed into a corner, his hands raised. “Lad, don’t involve me in this scheme. I’d like to keep my head.”

Zaerini slowly counted to ten. “Edwin,” she said in a tightly controlled voice. “I am not possessed.”

“Well, you would say that! But can you prove it? (And speaking of possessing, I would certainly want to possess her perfect little…)”

The half-elf smiled seductively, but there was a dangerous glitter in her golden eyes. “Why don’t you come closer?” she purred. “I want to whisper it into your ear. It is very secret.”

Edwin willingly obliged, looking very pleased with himself. “Yes?” he said. “Prove it, if you can.”

“Well,” Rini said, reaching up on tiptoe to whisper into his ear. “If I were possessed I wouldn’t know how to do this. WOULD I, SNUGGLY-WUGGLY?”

The last sentence she spoke in what was indeed a deep and dangerous bass voice. Sarevok’s voice in fact, something that created a very interesting contrast to the words spoken. The fact that she simultaneous tickled the wizard in the ribs probably contributed to his sudden yelp and the fact that his head almost collided with the ceiling.

“Satisfied?” Zaerini asked with a small smirk, crossing her arms across her chest.

“That,” the still wincing Edwin said, “was cruel, sadistic, and totally uncalled for. (Admirable, of course. Very much so. A demon could never achieve such adorable wickedness.) And I am not a ‘snuggly-wuggly’, whatever atrocious thing that is. It sounds like something with antennae.”

Jaheria cleared her throat. “Children…” she said in a tense voice.

Rini ignored the druid. “But you are!” she said, grinning at the wizard. “I should know. Well, not the antennae part…”

Edwin adamantly shook his head. “No I’m not! An epitome of masculine perfection, yes. A beacon of dazzling charm, to be sure. Also a masterful weaver of spells powerful enough to make the gods have to change their underwear when they see me coming. Certainly the object of fervent adoration for lovely concubines from all over Thay. And the world’s greatest chess player. (Well, almost.)”

The bard’s grin widened even more, and she took a step closer to the Red Wizard, staring directly into his eyes in a way that suddenly made him swallow heavily. “That’s what I said. A real snuggly-wuggly.”

Edwin blinked. “Well,” he said, clearing his throat as he smiled back at her. “If you put it that way…”

“CHILDREN!” Jaheira snapped. “Perhaps this might best be saved for a bedroom not belonging to Sarevok?”

“Oh!” Rini said, suddenly becoming aware of the fact that there were other people in the room, and feeling her cheeks turn hot. “Guess so…” I really wouldn’t want Big Brother to walk in on that…

“I think it was very sweet!” Imoen said, her eyes shining like stars. “Oh, and here’s something I found! They were down in that hole, by the snow globe.”

The object in question turned out to be two brief letters, with rather interesting contents.

Sarevok,

I have received your letter and am quite overjoyed by your proposition. I have told my wife, and she is as excited as I am. I accept your mission and think that your payment is very adequate. This will be our greatest feat yet! To kill three Grand Dukes of Baldur's Gate! We will be arriving in Baldur's Gate within a week, and should be taking up our usual residence at the Undercellar. If you wish to contact us, you will find us there. Use the access points through the sewers.

Joyfully yours,
Slythe.

Sarevok,

I must say that our first victim was not the challenge that my wife and I had expected. The foppish idiot had only the most token of defense. However, I can assure you that Entar screamed quite deliciously all the way to the end. I hope that this next mission is much more difficult; from what you have told me it would seem to be. Assassinating two Grand Dukes in their own palace, while they harangue the high nobles of Baldur's Gate no less! I can't wait! You still know where to find us. You should come down and enjoy the pleasures of the Undercellar for yourself; but if I know you, that'll never happen.

Your obedient servant,
Slythe.

“So,” Rini said, once she had read the letters. “More assassins. Well, why depart from a favorite theme… And this proves not only who was behind Duke Entar’s death, but what my brother intends as well.”

“He isn’t c-content with becoming a G-Grand Duke,” Khalid said, his voice grim. “He wants to r-rule alone.”

Jaheira nodded. “He must be stopped.”

Edwin shrugged. “What for? What does it matter to us who rules this city? Assassinations are an established part of political games. (Though I am certain these Westerners are mere amateurs, openly describing their plans in a letter like this. Certainly they would not be worthy to even walk in the shadow of…of truly skilled individuals.)”

Rini shook her head. “I don’t really care who rules this city. Or who becomes God of Murder, for that matter. But if it’s Sarevok, then he’ll have the perfect means to hunt me down. No, it can’t be allowed.”

“Scar would have been able to help with this,” Yeslick said. “Shame that he’s dead.”

“There is Elhan though,” Imoen suggested. “If what Tamoko said was true, he really needs help. I’m not sure we can trust her…but he would be able to help us if he read these letters wouldn’t he? And Sarevok’s diary too?”

“Maybe,” Zaerini said. “It’s worth a try.”

The adventurers left the Iron Throne building without further incidents, but the peace wasn’t about to last. They had hardly walked a block before they found themselves face to face with a large contingent of Flaming Fist, almost a small army. Definitely too many to fight.

“Halt!” the commanding officer called out. “You are all under arrest, by the orders of Angelo, commander of the Flaming Fist. You will come along peacefully, or you will be cut down where you stand.”

Well, Zaerini thought. I did want to go to the Flaming Fist building. Only not quite in this way…