In The Cards

The Priest Of Swords may symbolize an evil deity or his clergy, also oppression and enslavement, of either mind or body. A card to beware.

Excerpt from 'The Chaltar Deck Of Cards, An Introduction'

Plink. Plink. Plink. The inner cave was equally dark and damp as the one outside, and only a few small torches along the walls hinted at the fact that somebody dwelled here. There was the faint sound of water dripping from the roof, slowly, steadily. Plink. Plink. Plink. It probably had been doing that for many centuries, Zaerini thought, and likely would continue to do so for many more. Stalactites and stalagmites dotted the roof and floor respectively, making them deadly mazes of sharp rocks. Or is it stalagtites on the floor? Rini thought. I can never seem to remember that.

The entry tunnel split in three almost immediately, with no hint as to where they led. Not a sound was to be heard but for the dripping water. The already tense bard thought it was getting extremely annoying. The left passage led into a mostly empty cave, with just a dark pool inside. Rini thought she could glimpse pale and blind fish beneath the surface, and she shivered. Not that she had anything in particular against fish, but those things were simply too gross. Not as gross as the pile of human bones carelessly heaped on the floor though.

A small group of kobolds guarded the middle tunnel, but they were quickly dispatched of. Eventually the passage opened into another cave. This one wasn't empty however. A gloomy and dismal figure sat on the floor, his head resting against his knees. It was an elf. Zaerini couldn't help staring at him. Being half-elven herself she had always been intensely curious about the people who made up half of her heritage. Or what I thought was half my heritage, she thought darkly. Guess I'll never know if Daddy Bhaal had round or pointed ears as he raped my mother. This particular elf was pale and wan, and painfully thin, as if he'd been shut in this cave for a long while. Fine brown hair floated about a narrow face like a cloud, and the pointed ears in question were clearly visible. He was wearing purple mage robes, torn and dirty from his long captivity. Seems the color purple is an unlucky one for mages, Zaerini thought. Dynaheir wore it too, and she got captured by gnolls.

Then the elf raised his head and turned towards the newcomers, watching them with eyes dull like rainy skies, completely devoid of all hope. "Ah", he said in a doom-laden voice. "More fools on the road to oblivion. I would bid you welcome, but we shall all be dead before long, so I would rather not waste my final moments of misery."

"Wow...", Imoen said, watching the elf with round-eyed surprise. "You sure are sad. Who are you?"

"I am Xan", the elf said in a voice as sad as if he had just proclaimed himself to be a carrier of the plague. "If you are interested friend, I am a Greycloak from Evereska. It is my duty to watch over the political events of the human nations along our borders. A hopeless effort if ever I have seen one. And I have seen many. Hardly had I got here before I was captured and thrown into these dismal vaults." He pointed at his throat and Zaerini noticed an iron collar encircling it, chaining him firmly to the wall. She suddenly felt that familiar thirst for violence rising within her.

"Who has done this?" she asked, her voice tight with barely controlled fury.

"The half-orc Mulahey", Xan said, sounding listless. "If you want him you will find him in the next room, thinking up no ways of torturing me, no doubt. That seems to amuse him. Funny. I remember thinking of things as amusing myself. It feels so long ago…" His eyes stared emptily into the distance, dark with painful memories Zaerini guessed. Then he spoke again, each word dripping to the floor with the same indifferent sadness of the falling water drops. "Please make me no empty promises of freedom", he said. "You will all get killed anyway. I would prefer not getting my hopes up."

I don't think he knows what hope is anymore, Softpaws said. He is like a bird with a broken wing, that one. Unable to fly.

I hope that doesn't mean you're going to try to eat him.

No, kitten. But what are you going to do with him?

I'm going to get him out of here, Rini promised her familiar. Nobody deserves to be chained up and held prisoner in a ghastly dark cave like this. No wonder he's depressed. I wouldn't be exactly cheerful myself if it was me.

"We'll come back for you once we've dealt with this Mulahey", the bard told the chained elf. "Does he keep the key for your chains on his person?"

Xan simply nodded despondently.

"Just…just sit tight. We'll be back."

"The ever-present optimism of the naive…", the elf sighed. "At least you may annoy Mulahey enough to make him kill me quickly and not drag this torment out further." Then he closed his eyes and leaned back against the damp wall, completely ignoring them.

"What a very uplifting conversation that was", Edwin remarked as the adventurers made their way back down the passage. "I could almost feel my heart breaking. Oh, wait. No, that was my patience."

"Oh?", Rini snapped, her golden eyes flashing angrily. The vision of the elf longing for death still weighed heavily on her mind. "Suppose it was you locked up in there? I hardly think you'd be exactly perky either."

"Perhaps not", the Red Wizard said. "But I would never just curl up and wait for death like he does. No wonder he got captured easily, he probably didn't even try to fight. Pathetic. Simply pathetic. (If he wants death so badly I would be more than happy to assist.) I've seen jellyfish with more spine than he has."

"Oh, and aren't we being brave picking on a man in chains. Now that's spineless."

Edwin gave the bard a dark look from beneath the cowl of his robe, his face tight with anger. "If you want to waste your time mooning over some whiny elf with a nasal voice I suggest you do so in private", he said. "It's quite a sickening display of maiden folly, and I would have expected better from you. (If not by much.)"

"I'm not 'mooning' over him!" the half-elf snarled, feeling more and more outraged with every barbed comment. "And what makes you think I'm a 'maiden' anyway?" She was quite satisfied with the shocked look that flickered across the wizard's face. "I'm not saying I'm not either, you know. Just that it's none of your business."

"Children", Jaheira said mildly. "Could this perhaps wait until we get outside or do you want Mulahey to judge between you? I am certain he will find the discussion an interesting one, and he should be able to hear you before long." Both the bard and the wizard kept quiet after that, having to content themselves with glaring angrily at each other. This went on until they at last came to the end of the long tunnel and entered the third and final passage. Here there were carpets on the floor, though they had green and moldy spots here and there from the damp, and at the end of the tunnel purple drapes closed off an inner room. Inside there were some soft cushions for resting on, a small table and an interesting large chest. The piece of furniture that drew the most attention was an actual throne at one end of the room, admittedly not one covered with gold and silver, but still a throne.

Unbelievable, Zaerini thought. How conceited can you get? Mulahey was sitting on the throne, reading a letter. The half-orc looked mostly human, but there was a slight greenish tinge to his skin and he had a protruding lower jaw that also hinted at the orcish part of him. He wore heavy armor and on the front of his breast he wore an emblem, a skull in front of a dark sun. Cyric's symbol. This would be the Priest Of Swords, I guess. Now, how do I best deal with him? I need to get closer before he can get a spell off. And then she had an idea. She was trained to use her voice to emulate others, a skill highly useful in acting, and she was also a fair ventriloquist. Now she threw her voice into a dark corner on the other side of the room, making it take on the glum tones of the voice of the elf from Evereska.

"You're doomed, Mulahey", Xan's voice said. "You're doomed and you don't even know it."

The half-orc grunted with surprise. Then he got off his throne and peered into the dark corner. "What? How did you get in here?" he asked. "You're not supposed to be loose!" For a moment he simply stood there, looking confused, long arms dangling at knee-level. Then he cautiously moved in the direction from which he had heard the voice. Zaerini and her friends took this opportunity to come up behind him, the thick carpets muffling the sound of their feet. Mulahey didn't hear them until they were almost upon him. Then his ears twitched at some faint noise and he twisted around to find weapons being pointed at him. Fear leapt into his small and piggish eyes.

"Tazok must have dispatched you", he grunted, "and my traitorous kobolds let you pass, didn't they? I knew I could not trust them! Armed as such you have obviously been sent to kill me! By Cyric, not a measure of ore leaves this mine unspoiled and I am still to be executed?! I'll not lose my head over this!"

Tazok. The name itself was enough to send a small chill down' the bard's back. She hadn't heard it before, but she knew it all the same and briefly the image of a huge beast, horned and tusked, flashed before her eyes. The Beast. The Beast of my latest reading, the Beast standing behind the Priest Of Swords. And behind him, Sarevok. If she could only get this half-orc to betray his superiors she would be that much closer to finding Gorion's murderer.

"Uh...Yes...fool", she said. "Tazok is...is most displeased with you! Reveal your treachery and perhaps he will spare you!"

"Tazok is unfair", Mulahey complained, "I have no desire to cheat him, or thee! My letters will show, they are in that chest. Take them, take them and Tazok will see!" For a moment Rini thought this was going to be easy. Then, as her eyes turned towards the closed chest, the half-orc suddenly threw his muscular arm up, shoving her back. "Fools, you'll never have the chance to take anything! Minions, come forth and kill the intruders!"

A loud moan rose from behind the backs of the five adventurers, and then they could hear the clacking sound of bony feet rattling along rocky ground. The skeletons from the previous cave had risen. There were ten of them, and they no longer looked in the least pathetic. Skeletal fingers clutched swords and clubs, deep within the empty eye-sockets a cold blue fire burned, and the eternal grins of the skulls never wavered.

"I will deal with them!" Jaheira shouted. "The rest of you handle the priest!" She didn't pause to wait for an answer but immediately kicked a skeleton in the spine, causing it to topple and drag two others down with it. Fortunately the passage was narrow enough that the skeletons were forced to hold back rather than attack all at once. Jaheira's scimitar slid uselessly between the ribs of the next skeleton, giving off a rain of sparks. Growling loudly, the druid spotted a broken-off stalagmite on the ground. She quickly snatched the impromptu club with a vicious smile. Then she really got started.

Meanwhile Khalid had been struck by a Horror spell cast by Mulahey and was gibbering with terror in a corner, his arms across his head. Rini found herself dodging the wild swings of the Cyricist's morning star as the priest had picked her out as his primary target. She was by far the most agile of them, but she was starting to get weary, and there was no time for her to launch an attack of her own. Edwin had been firing Magic Missiles at the priest and Mulahey was already starting to falter a little, but the half-orc was sturdy and strong. He simply wouldn't fall. Eventually the Red Wizard was forced to resort to physical combat, his spells exhausted.

"Ha! Even hand to hand I am dangerous!" Edwin cried out as he managed to rap the half-orc smartly across the back with his staff. Unfortunately such a blow served more to enrage Mulahey than to actually harm him, and he turned towards the wizard with a furious roar that prominently displayed his long tusks. "Oh no…", Edwin gasped as he hurriedly tried to back away. "I really thought that would work… It always looks so easy…"

Just as Mulahey charged a hissing black cat darted in front of his feet, causing him to stumble. Softpaws hissed and bared her sharp teeth at the Cyricist as he raised his morningstar again.

Get away from there! Zaerini desperately ordered her familiar. The cat ignored her, choosing instead to swat at Mulahey's legs. In a moment she would undoubtedly get flattened, and Zaerini saw no other choice but to heedlessly launch herself at the half-orc to keep him from hurting Softpaws. But there was no need. Imoen had managed to creep up on Mulahey from behind while he was distracted by the cat, and now she swiftly drew her dagger across the backs of his bowed legs. Mulahey screamed with sudden pain, and there were two loud 'twangs', like bowstrings fired, as the tendons were cut clean through. Then the priest tumbled unceremoniously to the ground, his legs no longer able to support him. Panting and cursing Mulahey tried to cast a spell to heal himself, but it was too late. Whistling through the air like a cold wind from the North Varscona sliced through his thick neck as if it had been hot butter. Then his head rolled across the floor and came to a halt just as Jaheira brought the final skeleton down.

"Whoa!" Imoen said. "Nice move, Rini."

"Thanks", Zaerini gasped and pushed her sweaty red locks out of her eyes. "You were pretty smooth yourself, Immy."

"What?" Edwin protested. "No words of praise for the wizard? (Ingrates. All of them.)"

"Oh, come on", Imoen said with a cheerful grin. "It you wanna backstab someone you can't do it like you did. You have to hit them in the vitals, don't you know that? Sheesh. Do your homework better next time."

"I'll have you know that my Art requires time and dedication, girl. I can't be expected to practice rogue skills as well. (Though I'm certain I would have been able to become an expert had I had a chance to try.)"

Zaerini was only paying partial attention to the discussion. While Jaheira brought Khalid out of his shocked state the bard searched Mulahey's body. She pocketed the symbol of Cyric first, intending to show it to the mayor of Nashkel as proof of her deed. The alternative being lugging his head around, and that was simply too disgusting. Child of Bhaal I may be, Rini thought, but I'm not that far gone just yet, thank you. Mulahey's boots looked interesting and likely magical. She would take a closer look at those later, assuming she could get the stink out. The ring on his finger was an even greater prize. She recognized it from an old book on holy relics. A Ring of Holiness, and it would enhance the powers of a priest. The perfect thing for Jaheira. After pocketing the key to Xan's cell Zaerini turned to the interesting chest near the wall. There were some potions and spell scrolls, a sword and then the most interesting of all. Two letters.

My servant Mulahey,

I have sent you the kobolds and mineral poison that you require. Your task is to poison any iron ore that leaves this mine. Don't reveal your presence to the miners or you will find yourself swamped by soldiers from the local Amnish garrison. My superiors have recently hired on the services of the Black talon mercenaries and the Chill. With these soldiers at my disposal, I should be able to destroy any iron caravans entering the region from the south and east. I don't want to deal with iron coming from the Nashkel mines so don't fail in your duty.

TAZOK

My servant Mulahey,

Your progress in disrupting the flow of iron ore does not go as well as it should. How stupid can you be to allow your kobolds to murder the miners? ! With your presence revealed you should be wary of enemies sent to stop your operation. Your task is a very simple one; if you continue to show that you can't do the job, you will be replaced. I will not send the kobolds you have requested as I need all the troops I possess to stop the flow of iron into this region. With this message I have sent more of the mineral poison that you require. If you have any problems then send a message to my new contact in Beregost. His name is Tranzig, and he'll be staying at Feldpost's inn.

TAZOK

Interesting contents, Zaerini decided, while wondering what the purpose of strangling the iron trade was. Perhaps this 'Tranzig' would be able to provide her with some answers. She allowed herself a brief smile at the thought, and for a second or two her eyes burned with an unearthly golden light. Then it flickered and disappeared as she remembered the captive elf in the other room. "Xan!", she exclaimed. "We'll have to go free him at once, I'm sure he'll be ecstatic to hear of Mulahey's demise."

"What of the letters?" Edwin asked.

"I'll read them out to you later. Now let's go!"

As it turned out the one hint of expression that came out of Xan when he was released was a heavy sigh. "At last I am free of my dreary prison", he said, stretching his back. "Five and eighty days are far too long for one of the fair folk to live as a dwarf. You look no better off than I, but my appreciation for my liberty bids me add my spells to your cause. While I am certain we shall all be dead before the week is out I feel obligated to offer anyway. Shall we face the impossible together?"

"Well", Zaerini said, feeling suddenly a little hesitant. "Why don't you let us escort you back to Nashkel at least? Then we'll see."

"As you wish. One death is as good as another I suppose."

"Wonderful", Edwin muttered. "This promises to be a very cheerful journey. (I would have almost preferred the madman, at least he was entertaining.)"

Once Zaerini had briefed her companions on the contents of Mulahey's letters they set out again, following a narrow ridge around the underground the river until they came upon another tunnel, this one sloping gently upwards.

"At last", Jaheira said. "I cannot wait to see the sun again and feel the wind on my face."

"A-and hear the s-songs of the birds", Khalid agreed.

"You know", Rini said, "that makes me think of a song. It's a dwarven working song actually, and it's been adapted into Common. Wanna hear it?"

"I don't know", Edwin said. "It's not about gold is it?"

"No, no. Come on guys! It will be fun, I promise. I'll do the main verses, and I want you all to promise to join in the chorus." The bard didn't give up until she had achieved muttered consent from all her friends. "Right", she said. "Here goes. Remember to whistle the tune when I give the sign. And make sure to put some spirit into the 'Heigh-Ho' parts…"

And some distance above a group of miners froze with shock and horror as strange and unearthly sounds drifted up from the depths of the Nashkel Mine, the cheerful dwarven song distorted into devilish howls by the lingering echoes deep within the mountain. "Demons", one of the miners muttered. "I knew it was demons…"