a/n: This fanfic was inspired by several discussions at [1]www.rasalvatore.com. Many thanks go out to R.A. Salvatore for creating such interesting characters, and to the wonderful people on the messageboard who egged me on to write this.
May Jarlaxle forgive me. ;)
***
SEARCHING FOR SALVATORE--by Tori L. Corday
Part One
***
Entreri returned to Jarlaxle's current base of operations late into the evening, bored after another uneventful day in Waterdeep, "City of Splendors."
It really was not much different from Calimport or any other large city he'd visited--albeit with fewer beggars and less organized thieves, perhaps. Entreri was not particularly impressed.
He entered the crumbling tower the two had recently liberated from a tribe of bugbears and found Jarlaxle on the uppermost floor, reading over a stack of papers and looking as perplexed as Entreri had ever seen him.
The assassin stopped in the doorframe and affected an indolent slouch. "More bounty offers?" he asked, though he suspected that wasn't the case.
Jarlaxle shook his head, doffing his ridiculous hat. "Read these, my friend," he said, running a hand over his baldpate. "Read these charges that are being levied against me!"
Entreri took the stack of papers, noticing immediately the perfectly even, unembellished script that lined the pages. It seemed to be a transcript of a conversation between several people.
'I can't remember where I read it but someone brought up the idea that Jarlaxle was a hermaphrodite...'
'In my opinion, Jarlaxle, as well as all drow, are bi.'
'I don't know about the bisexual thing...Although he sure does like to strut around in those little vests. It wouldn't surprise me if he were a transvestite...'
There was more, but Entreri just gave it a cursory glance. "Where did this come from?"
Jarlaxle hardly heard him. He was standing in front of his full-length mirror, trying on different expressions and looking in turn pouty, mean, and seductive. "Give me your honest opinion, as an objective, heterosexual man. Do you think the vest is too much?"
"Jarlaxle," Entreri repeated deliberately, his patience wearing thin, "where did this come from?"
The flamboyant mercenary twirled around. "Ah, yes. I had one of my sources from the outer planes do a search for anyone using my name in speech or in writing. This is what my source returned with--a written dialogue from some remote prime world called Terra, or 'Earth.' These messages, according to my source, were transmitted across hundreds and even thousands of miles instantly via some magical connection called 'the Internet.' And people say paranoia doesn't pay off."
Momentarily startled by that revelation, Entreri glanced through the papers again, seeing his own name come up in more than passing reference. Something about a dwarven female, and a chain...
The assassin cleared his throat. "It seems that the people of Earth have some window into our world, a means of scrying even into our own thoughts and transmitting them to others as if the distance is no consideration. A dangerous ability," he concluded.
"And they make such...interesting...use of it," Jarlaxle added.
Entreri nodded, acknowledging Jarlaxle's point. The fact that this information network was used for such juvenile purposes indicated that it was easily accessible even to the common people. It was not a comfortable thought.
"This is a situation that requires some discreet investigation," said Entreri. "I trust your source is reliable?"
"Indeed, although not always available," Jarlaxle replied. "That's why I'm sending you to look into the matter. That is, if you're interested." He smiled slyly and held up a strange looking object, rectangular and about six inches long, with numbered buttons on it.
"This is called a 'cell phone'--It's been imbued with both the magical properties of our world and the world it originated on. I had a teleportation enchantment placed on it. All you need to do is put in the right number code and it will take you here or there." Jarlaxle beamed happily. "And if you punch in a different code, you can talk to me!" He pulled an identical looking object out of one his many pockets--well, almost identical. This one was gold-plated and studded with enough precious gems to buy a small kingdom. "It doesn't have the teleportation enchantment, but it will allow us to communicate with each other." Jarlaxle struck a pose, holding the absurdly decorated magical phone up to his ear. "Oh wait--let me give you my number."
As Jarlaxle scribbled down the codes, he began briefing Entreri about his mission. "The ringleader of this group seems to be a man called R.A. Salvatore. I need you to find out how he is getting this information and silence him. He may be difficult to find, cloaked in secrecy, perhaps. Even his followers seem to have a difficult time contacting him. You might want to start lower--well, you have a list of names."
Entreri scanned the information again, smiling evilly. Some of these too-talkative fools had been considerate enough to give each other information regarding their whereabouts. The list of names was long--Evla5, Arabwel, Sri'alys the Indep, Juliet...
The hunt was on.
***
Entreri punched in the code Jarlaxle had given him and shut his eyes as a blast of magical energy pulled him away from the tower and into another world entirely. When he opened his eyes, he was standing in the doorway of a run-down building a few steps below street level. He hurried off, not wanting to be questioned for his abrupt arrival, and noted briefly that a glowing sign in the window read, "Sex toys! Adult videos, magazines, and more!"
It was starting to feel like home already.
The climate, though, was closer to Waterdeep than his native Calimport. Entreri was glad he'd brought his long, layered black leather coat, as a chill wind nipped at his face. It was dusk, and everywhere there was noise and lights. It heralded the passing of the strange, metallic golems that streaked past him on the road. It took him a moment to realize that the "golems" were full of people.
Entreri took care to conceal his dagger and Charon's Claw in his coat; he didn't see anyone else carrying weapons, and he didn't know what the local custom was. A few people strayed along the sidewalks, giving him odd looks occasionally, but most used the golems. Was everyone in this world a wizard, or was this something other than magic? he wondered.
Entreri walked along until he came to a sign that said "The Holiday Inn." That sounded promising--all he wanted at this point was a place to relax and get his bearings. He walked into the hotel lobby and waited in line at the counter. Several men in absurd looking, nearly identical outfits sat around a low table, talking business. They wore straight, shapeless clothes in various shades of gray, dark blue and black, and each wore a strange, noose-like accessory around his neck. Jarlaxle would have been appalled at their fashion sense, he thought wryly.
When Entreri's turn came, a pleasant-looking young woman perkily asked him his name.
"Drizzit Dudden," he replied.
The woman looked bemused, but didn't question it beyond asking for the correct spelling. "And how long are you planning to stay here?"
Entreri had no idea how long he'd be staying, but he figured he could always reserve his room again. "Two nights," he told her.
The woman pushed some buttons on a strange device and gave him the price of the room, which meant nothing to him. "Cash or credit card?" she asked.
Entreri hefted a bag of gold and precious stones up onto the counter. "Will this suffice?"
The woman peered into the bag, her eyes going wide. There was enough wealth in the bag to fund Entreri's stay for a month, and she knew it. "Um..." she stammered, "let me go talk to my manager."
After leaving Entreri for a moment, the woman returned with a card. "You're all set," she said, giving him the key card. "Your room is number 3012, on your left at the end of the hall after you get out of the elevator." She indicated the sliding doors that a woman in a fur-lined coat had just stepped through.
It didn't take Entreri long to figure out the elevator or the key card, and soon he was starting to relax. Finally alone and free from scrutiny, he examined everything in the room. He found a thick leather-bound book in the bedside table and started reading, but he couldn't get into it. He found a map of the city on the table, and was pleased to find quite sophisticated plumbing facilities. He'd certainly stayed at worse inns.
There was also a strange black box on a shelf opposite his bed, and he found that when he pressed different buttons, moving pictures appeared on a screen.
Fascinated, Entreri settled down to watch, thinking he could learn something about this strange world. He learned that lemon-scented Ajax was the leading dish soap, at least according to a spokeswoman for Ajax. A scantily-clad girl appeared next, advertising _her_ wares--some sort of drink called "Pepsi." Looks like Jarlaxle's type, he thought, cracking a slight smile.
Suddenly, he was aware of the presence of people in the hallway outside his door. Not overly alarmed, Entreri nevertheless set Charon's Claw up against the wall near the door, draping his coat over the sword, and tucking his dagger inside his sleeve.
The footsteps stopped outside his door, and someone knocked loudly. "Open up, sir!" a voice yelled.
Entreri cautiously peered through a tiny magnifying glass in the door and saw two large men, dressed much like the men he'd seen downstairs.
"FBI! Open up!" The pounding on the door increased.
Entreri thought about conveniently disappearing, but he'd paid a heavy sack of gold and gems to stay here, and he wasn't about to run away without a fight. He opened the door and decided to try diplomacy first.
"What can I do for you gentlemen?" he asked politely.
"Mr. Dudden?" one of the men asked.
Entreri nodded, wishing now that he hadn't picked such a stupid sounding alias.
"I'm Agent Knight and this is my partner, Agent Walters. We'd just like to ask you a few questions. Mind if we come in?"
Perfectly polite, these two nevertheless _oozed_ sliminess. Entreri didn't see any obvious weapons on them, but he knew better than to let his guard down. He stepped aside to let them in, staying within easy reach of his sword.
"Now, Mr. Dudden, we regret having to impose on you like this, but you see we've come upon a rather uncomfortable situation."
Entreri nodded and crossed his arms, putting his fingers less than an inch away from the hilt of his dagger. His foot crept out, closer to the coat, and began tapping almost imperceptively.
"It has come to our attention that you paid for your visit here in rather large amounts of gold and gems. Now, the gems do not match the description of any that have recently been reported stolen, but we did want to ask you about the gold. Where did you get it from?"
Entreri had no idea what sort of answer would satisfy these men, so he settled for the truth. "From a dragon's lair," he said, smirking.
The two men exchanged loaded glances, as if that meant something to them.
"The currency is unfamiliar to us," said Knight. "We have reason to suspect it was minted by individuals unfriendly to our national interests."
"I think you'd better come with us," said Walters, stepping closer to Entreri. What kind of place _is_ this, he wondered. It's illegal to pay an inn tab with foreign currency?
The assassin let him close in, feigning a frightened expression, and then kicked his coat off of Charon's Claw, bringing the sword up and drawing his dagger in one fluid motion. He stabbed Walters with the dagger before he could finish drawing his weapon, then reflexively dove to the side as the Knight pulled something out of his jacket. A loud *bang* erupted from the weapon and Entreri felt something graze his shoulder, but high on the other man's stolen life force, he hardly cared.
Keeping his body tucked as he tumbled, he made himself a small and fast-moving target. He heard another *bang* as a bullet ripped into the wall where his head had just been a brief moment before, but when he finished his movement, he was within sword-range of the slower-moving Knight. The next shot went wild, and the man never got a fourth. Charon's Claw sliced off his weapon hand and then slashed him across the throat.
Entreri searched the corpses for valuables, taking both men's weapons and wallets, leaving their contents for later examination. He took out the cell phone-transporter and opened up a portal to the tower, dragging the corpses with him. Jarlaxle wasn't in, so Entreri just left him a short sarcastic note. He dumped the bodies outside, changed his clothes, and visualized an area of the city several blocks from the Holiday Inn.
Perhaps he would need a guide.
References
1. http://www.rasalvatore.com/
May Jarlaxle forgive me. ;)
***
SEARCHING FOR SALVATORE--by Tori L. Corday
Part One
***
Entreri returned to Jarlaxle's current base of operations late into the evening, bored after another uneventful day in Waterdeep, "City of Splendors."
It really was not much different from Calimport or any other large city he'd visited--albeit with fewer beggars and less organized thieves, perhaps. Entreri was not particularly impressed.
He entered the crumbling tower the two had recently liberated from a tribe of bugbears and found Jarlaxle on the uppermost floor, reading over a stack of papers and looking as perplexed as Entreri had ever seen him.
The assassin stopped in the doorframe and affected an indolent slouch. "More bounty offers?" he asked, though he suspected that wasn't the case.
Jarlaxle shook his head, doffing his ridiculous hat. "Read these, my friend," he said, running a hand over his baldpate. "Read these charges that are being levied against me!"
Entreri took the stack of papers, noticing immediately the perfectly even, unembellished script that lined the pages. It seemed to be a transcript of a conversation between several people.
'I can't remember where I read it but someone brought up the idea that Jarlaxle was a hermaphrodite...'
'In my opinion, Jarlaxle, as well as all drow, are bi.'
'I don't know about the bisexual thing...Although he sure does like to strut around in those little vests. It wouldn't surprise me if he were a transvestite...'
There was more, but Entreri just gave it a cursory glance. "Where did this come from?"
Jarlaxle hardly heard him. He was standing in front of his full-length mirror, trying on different expressions and looking in turn pouty, mean, and seductive. "Give me your honest opinion, as an objective, heterosexual man. Do you think the vest is too much?"
"Jarlaxle," Entreri repeated deliberately, his patience wearing thin, "where did this come from?"
The flamboyant mercenary twirled around. "Ah, yes. I had one of my sources from the outer planes do a search for anyone using my name in speech or in writing. This is what my source returned with--a written dialogue from some remote prime world called Terra, or 'Earth.' These messages, according to my source, were transmitted across hundreds and even thousands of miles instantly via some magical connection called 'the Internet.' And people say paranoia doesn't pay off."
Momentarily startled by that revelation, Entreri glanced through the papers again, seeing his own name come up in more than passing reference. Something about a dwarven female, and a chain...
The assassin cleared his throat. "It seems that the people of Earth have some window into our world, a means of scrying even into our own thoughts and transmitting them to others as if the distance is no consideration. A dangerous ability," he concluded.
"And they make such...interesting...use of it," Jarlaxle added.
Entreri nodded, acknowledging Jarlaxle's point. The fact that this information network was used for such juvenile purposes indicated that it was easily accessible even to the common people. It was not a comfortable thought.
"This is a situation that requires some discreet investigation," said Entreri. "I trust your source is reliable?"
"Indeed, although not always available," Jarlaxle replied. "That's why I'm sending you to look into the matter. That is, if you're interested." He smiled slyly and held up a strange looking object, rectangular and about six inches long, with numbered buttons on it.
"This is called a 'cell phone'--It's been imbued with both the magical properties of our world and the world it originated on. I had a teleportation enchantment placed on it. All you need to do is put in the right number code and it will take you here or there." Jarlaxle beamed happily. "And if you punch in a different code, you can talk to me!" He pulled an identical looking object out of one his many pockets--well, almost identical. This one was gold-plated and studded with enough precious gems to buy a small kingdom. "It doesn't have the teleportation enchantment, but it will allow us to communicate with each other." Jarlaxle struck a pose, holding the absurdly decorated magical phone up to his ear. "Oh wait--let me give you my number."
As Jarlaxle scribbled down the codes, he began briefing Entreri about his mission. "The ringleader of this group seems to be a man called R.A. Salvatore. I need you to find out how he is getting this information and silence him. He may be difficult to find, cloaked in secrecy, perhaps. Even his followers seem to have a difficult time contacting him. You might want to start lower--well, you have a list of names."
Entreri scanned the information again, smiling evilly. Some of these too-talkative fools had been considerate enough to give each other information regarding their whereabouts. The list of names was long--Evla5, Arabwel, Sri'alys the Indep, Juliet...
The hunt was on.
***
Entreri punched in the code Jarlaxle had given him and shut his eyes as a blast of magical energy pulled him away from the tower and into another world entirely. When he opened his eyes, he was standing in the doorway of a run-down building a few steps below street level. He hurried off, not wanting to be questioned for his abrupt arrival, and noted briefly that a glowing sign in the window read, "Sex toys! Adult videos, magazines, and more!"
It was starting to feel like home already.
The climate, though, was closer to Waterdeep than his native Calimport. Entreri was glad he'd brought his long, layered black leather coat, as a chill wind nipped at his face. It was dusk, and everywhere there was noise and lights. It heralded the passing of the strange, metallic golems that streaked past him on the road. It took him a moment to realize that the "golems" were full of people.
Entreri took care to conceal his dagger and Charon's Claw in his coat; he didn't see anyone else carrying weapons, and he didn't know what the local custom was. A few people strayed along the sidewalks, giving him odd looks occasionally, but most used the golems. Was everyone in this world a wizard, or was this something other than magic? he wondered.
Entreri walked along until he came to a sign that said "The Holiday Inn." That sounded promising--all he wanted at this point was a place to relax and get his bearings. He walked into the hotel lobby and waited in line at the counter. Several men in absurd looking, nearly identical outfits sat around a low table, talking business. They wore straight, shapeless clothes in various shades of gray, dark blue and black, and each wore a strange, noose-like accessory around his neck. Jarlaxle would have been appalled at their fashion sense, he thought wryly.
When Entreri's turn came, a pleasant-looking young woman perkily asked him his name.
"Drizzit Dudden," he replied.
The woman looked bemused, but didn't question it beyond asking for the correct spelling. "And how long are you planning to stay here?"
Entreri had no idea how long he'd be staying, but he figured he could always reserve his room again. "Two nights," he told her.
The woman pushed some buttons on a strange device and gave him the price of the room, which meant nothing to him. "Cash or credit card?" she asked.
Entreri hefted a bag of gold and precious stones up onto the counter. "Will this suffice?"
The woman peered into the bag, her eyes going wide. There was enough wealth in the bag to fund Entreri's stay for a month, and she knew it. "Um..." she stammered, "let me go talk to my manager."
After leaving Entreri for a moment, the woman returned with a card. "You're all set," she said, giving him the key card. "Your room is number 3012, on your left at the end of the hall after you get out of the elevator." She indicated the sliding doors that a woman in a fur-lined coat had just stepped through.
It didn't take Entreri long to figure out the elevator or the key card, and soon he was starting to relax. Finally alone and free from scrutiny, he examined everything in the room. He found a thick leather-bound book in the bedside table and started reading, but he couldn't get into it. He found a map of the city on the table, and was pleased to find quite sophisticated plumbing facilities. He'd certainly stayed at worse inns.
There was also a strange black box on a shelf opposite his bed, and he found that when he pressed different buttons, moving pictures appeared on a screen.
Fascinated, Entreri settled down to watch, thinking he could learn something about this strange world. He learned that lemon-scented Ajax was the leading dish soap, at least according to a spokeswoman for Ajax. A scantily-clad girl appeared next, advertising _her_ wares--some sort of drink called "Pepsi." Looks like Jarlaxle's type, he thought, cracking a slight smile.
Suddenly, he was aware of the presence of people in the hallway outside his door. Not overly alarmed, Entreri nevertheless set Charon's Claw up against the wall near the door, draping his coat over the sword, and tucking his dagger inside his sleeve.
The footsteps stopped outside his door, and someone knocked loudly. "Open up, sir!" a voice yelled.
Entreri cautiously peered through a tiny magnifying glass in the door and saw two large men, dressed much like the men he'd seen downstairs.
"FBI! Open up!" The pounding on the door increased.
Entreri thought about conveniently disappearing, but he'd paid a heavy sack of gold and gems to stay here, and he wasn't about to run away without a fight. He opened the door and decided to try diplomacy first.
"What can I do for you gentlemen?" he asked politely.
"Mr. Dudden?" one of the men asked.
Entreri nodded, wishing now that he hadn't picked such a stupid sounding alias.
"I'm Agent Knight and this is my partner, Agent Walters. We'd just like to ask you a few questions. Mind if we come in?"
Perfectly polite, these two nevertheless _oozed_ sliminess. Entreri didn't see any obvious weapons on them, but he knew better than to let his guard down. He stepped aside to let them in, staying within easy reach of his sword.
"Now, Mr. Dudden, we regret having to impose on you like this, but you see we've come upon a rather uncomfortable situation."
Entreri nodded and crossed his arms, putting his fingers less than an inch away from the hilt of his dagger. His foot crept out, closer to the coat, and began tapping almost imperceptively.
"It has come to our attention that you paid for your visit here in rather large amounts of gold and gems. Now, the gems do not match the description of any that have recently been reported stolen, but we did want to ask you about the gold. Where did you get it from?"
Entreri had no idea what sort of answer would satisfy these men, so he settled for the truth. "From a dragon's lair," he said, smirking.
The two men exchanged loaded glances, as if that meant something to them.
"The currency is unfamiliar to us," said Knight. "We have reason to suspect it was minted by individuals unfriendly to our national interests."
"I think you'd better come with us," said Walters, stepping closer to Entreri. What kind of place _is_ this, he wondered. It's illegal to pay an inn tab with foreign currency?
The assassin let him close in, feigning a frightened expression, and then kicked his coat off of Charon's Claw, bringing the sword up and drawing his dagger in one fluid motion. He stabbed Walters with the dagger before he could finish drawing his weapon, then reflexively dove to the side as the Knight pulled something out of his jacket. A loud *bang* erupted from the weapon and Entreri felt something graze his shoulder, but high on the other man's stolen life force, he hardly cared.
Keeping his body tucked as he tumbled, he made himself a small and fast-moving target. He heard another *bang* as a bullet ripped into the wall where his head had just been a brief moment before, but when he finished his movement, he was within sword-range of the slower-moving Knight. The next shot went wild, and the man never got a fourth. Charon's Claw sliced off his weapon hand and then slashed him across the throat.
Entreri searched the corpses for valuables, taking both men's weapons and wallets, leaving their contents for later examination. He took out the cell phone-transporter and opened up a portal to the tower, dragging the corpses with him. Jarlaxle wasn't in, so Entreri just left him a short sarcastic note. He dumped the bodies outside, changed his clothes, and visualized an area of the city several blocks from the Holiday Inn.
Perhaps he would need a guide.
References
1. http://www.rasalvatore.com/