CHAPTER 1
It had been exactly eight months since his last mission. Despite his intense desire to return to his home in Cormyr, he had been forced to spend each and every one of those eight months of liberty here, in Amn, licking his wounds from the previous mission. The Red Wizard he and his partner had tracked down and killed had packed an immense surprise for them when they had finally cornered and exposed him: the wizard wasn't a man at all, but rather a dragon. A large, angry red dragon named Thaxylliarvas. It had dumbfounded and horrified he and his partner, but they had managed to strike the beast down...using, of course, very rudimentary tactics. In other words, it had come down to making his partner dash about and divert the dragon's attention, whilst he hacked away like mad after fidning his way atop the creature's back. Surprise surprise, Thaxylliarvas had fallen within fifteen minutes.
Montaron thoughtfully fingered the dragonscale armor he wore and smirked cockily. At least he'd gotten something out of the deal...well, other than scars, gold and a sensitive knee, of course. He was currently standing in the sitting room of a derelict house, waiting for his employer to make his appearance and let him know what it was that he and his partner were needed for. The house itself was situated in the slums of Amn, where every petty crook, swindler and poor bastard could be seen at least twice a day if you stood outside and wacthed the streets. This was not Montaron's favourite place to be, nor was it his partner's, but as Zhentarim agents they didn't have much choice when it came to keeping a low profile.
Idly, Montaron looked around to find his partner who, for some reason, was being strangely quiet. He found the man not ten feet away, bent sideways and peering into an oddly-shaped glass tank that appeared to be an aquarium of sorts. As if the other man had felt Montaron's eyes on him, he spoke without turning.
"Monty!" The man called in an excited half-whisper, "You really must see this!" Montaron rolled his eyes.
"They're fish, ye daft wizard! Get yerself away from there before someone sees ye acting like a blasted fool." He growled back. Of course, if his employer did see his partner acting like a fool, he or she probably wouldn't care. Anyone who had ever been remotely near Xzar for more than 5 minutes could tell that the man was at least partially insane. Despite the occasional twitching and random exclamations however, Xzar was a deceptively clever fellow -- which was surely why the Zhents kept him under their hand. It was Montaron's second year in partnership with the wizard after being paired with him by a previous employer, and though he didn't understand -- and often had difficulty tolerating -- Xzar most of the time, he acknowledged the man's arcane talents and didn't really mind working with him. After all, a sticky-fingered halfling such as himself would look much less suspicious travelling with a human wizard than roaming about alone.
"Why must you always be so moody?" Xzar complained, turning away from the tank and slowly making his way back to his partner, "Do you not find anything amusing other than sinking your blade into some poor fellow's gullet?" He stopped beside the shorter man and smoothed the front of his robes. Montaron snorted.
"Not really, no." He answered curtly, then an evil grin slowly crept onto his face, "Though I was rather amused by yer silence a few minutes ago..." His grin was instantly replaced by a scowl as Xzar's fist connected with his shoulder. As if on cue, an elaborately-robed man appeared in the doorway that lead further back into the house. He looked thoroughly unimpressed, irritated and tired; his slender hands were clasped just as tightly as his thin lips. His eyes darted from the grinning Xzar to the sneering Montaron and seemed to be wondering if these two were indeed the pair he was supposed to be meeting. Finally, he spoke.
"Hello." His voice was accented, "My name is Edwin Odessieron, but you..." He paused and frowned, "...simians may refer to me as merely 'sir' if you prefer a less intense syllabic workout." He forced a smile and it ended up making him look like he was in pain, "You have been hired -- and not by me, I assure you -- to retrieve Terrece, a member of the High Council of the Zhentarim, from SpellHold." His frown deepened as Xzar's grin disappeared and was replaced by a look of utter disbelief, "Yes, I realize that you are blundering idiots and I must admit that I considered not even relaying this task to you and reporting back with the news of your sudden deaths..." He sneered, "...but my superirors were quite adamant in the matter." Montaron scowled darkly up at him.
"Do ye realize what yer askin'?!" He cried incredulously, "How in the nine Hells are we supposed to get into SpellHold? We can't exactly walk up to the Government District, grab a Cowled Wizard by the throat and demand to be tele-whatever'd there! If we so much as mention SpellHold the authorities will be on us like flies on crap!" Beside him, Xzar snickered. Edwin, however, remained unimpressed.
"Whoa there, vertically-challenged one. Relax." He drawled in mock- soothing and Montaron shot him a look of death, "I've arranged for you to meet with a Mr. Ployer in the Docks District just southwest of here. Mister Ployer can help you with your task if you help him in turn." He smiled bitterly, "You see, we owe Mister Ployer a favor, and it is very important for us to keep our slate clean if you see what I am saying." He turned a dull look upon Xzar and added dryly, "Though I would think not." At this Xzar snapped.
"I understand you perfectly well, Mister Odessieron." The wizard cut in sharply, eyeing the other man irritably, "I would suggest you cease your incessant mockery before you find yourself short a few limbs." He smiled chillingly and beside him, Montaron's hand rested atop the hilt of his sword. Edwin scoffed.
"Do not threaten me, tool. It is not in your best interest." He purred and returned Xzar's cold smile, "Now then. Find Ployer and he will provide further details at his convenience. I will be monitoring your progress, if any, and should you need serious help feel free to consult me. I will be in the Docks district as well -- inquire about Mae'Var's guildhouse and you will find me therein." He flicked a speck off the sleeve of his crimson robe, "I am a busy man, so try your very best not to bother me." He raised an eyebrow at his hirelings, "That is all. Off with you. And don't screw up."
Montaron grabbed Xzar, who was standing quite still and staring intently at Edwin, by the arm and shoved him towards the door behind them, "Sleep lightly, task master!" He called over his shoulder at Edwin as he and his partner exited the house. When they were outside, Xzar slammed the door loudly.
"Monty," He declared pointedly, "I don't think I like that man." Montaron chuckled.
"The feelin's more'n mutual, wizard." He motioned to the road ahead, "Move. Let's get this over with quickly; I don't want to deal with that troll any longer'n I have to." He urged. They moved to the roadside and started in the direction of the southern district exit. It was late afternoon and very few people haunted the streets; Montaron figured that by this hour, most of the town's inhabitants -- well, those who had any money -- had all gathered at the tavern. Xzar frowned and began to finger the cuff of his sleeve.
"As much as I hate to admit it, that Odessieron fellow voiced a half- decent concern." He remarked, "The man we're to free from SpellHold sounds rather stately. We may not be the kind of help needed for the situation..." He looked down at Montaron, "...improvised dragonslaying and assassinations are one thing, but taking on the Cowled Wizards of SpellHold is entirely different...and, I'm afraid, distinctly out of our league." Montaron shrugged at this.
"So what're ye sayin'?" He retorted derisively, "That someone up in the ranks has a speech impediment and that names got mangled along that way to Edwin? Bah." He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, "They hired us for a reason." Xzar nodded.
"Exactly!" He exclaimed and kicked a small grey cat out of his way, "It's my hypothesis that we've been chosen to accomplish this particular task because we don't have a public face. Think about it, Monty. We haven't really done anything monumental, and if you mention my name or yours in the average local tavern, not one pair of ears would quirk. If this Terrece fellow is really a member of the High Council --" He paused and rolled his eyes, "-- and, from previous experience, there is a distinct possibility that he may very well not be -- then the law will be on the lookout for the 'Zhent Top Ten', so to speak. Being of lower rank, it should be easier to slip about without encountering too much resistance." He smiled contentedly at this but Montaron seemed unimpressed.
"Whatever." He grumbled, "Either way, all of Amn'll be right crawlin' with soldiers and spies and the like. To Hell with yer guessin', wizard; I say we'll run into just as much resistance as any remotely suspicious individual." He then added lightly, "Not that I'm complainin' about the resistance, mind you." Xzar laughed shortly.
"Not that you would, no." He replied with a smirk. As they rounded a corner, an ashen-faced woman on her front step stared at them as they passed by. Xzar waved and the woman dashed back inside her house at once, "Well that was rude." He mumbled calmly. Montaron snorted.
"How many times do I have to tell ye, wizard? No one likes ye." He shook his head, scanning the deserted road ahead, "Yer a freak." Xzar sighed and looked down at himself, then compulsively combed his relatively- short hair with his fingers.
"Shut up! You're the short one with pointed ears and hairy feet!" He quipped defensively, fighting to keep his voice down. Montaron lashed out with his arm and hit the wizard across the lower ribs.
"Be quiet, ye blasted fool!" He snapped at once as Xzar doubled over and fell behind, "Can we not speak for a while? Eh? That way at least one of us will keep his sanity." There came the sound of hurried footsteps and soon Xzar had caught up with him again. The wizard stared straight ahead sulkily. Montaron grinned widely and sighed.
"Ahhhhhh," He breathed nice and loud, "There we go. There's that blessed silence again."
They travelled in silence as the day wore thin. It was early fall in Amn and the wind got chilly when dusk settled in. When the sun went down in the slums, it was darker than in any other populated region; there were very few lights the further away one got from the Tavern, and stray animals came out of their hiding places in the alleys to take advantage of nocturnal prey. The streets were even more barren of life than they were during the day. Montaron nearly jogged to keep up with Xzar's long strides as the two of them quickly made their way to the District exit and towards the inviting stone archway that marked the entrance to the Docks.
The difference was shocking at best. The houses in this part of Amn were illuminated and decent-looking, a few people walked the streets either leisurely or on their way home, shouts and chatter wafted up from the Sea's Bounty -- the local Inn and Tavern -- in the center of the town. The Docks district was built on slanted ground, and two long, opposing stairwells loftily snaked down and through the town until they reached the seaside, where tethered boats of all shapes and sizes gently swayed in the waves. Montaron took a deep breath.
"Now this is better. Not great, but better." He declared with satisfaction. Beside him, Xzar wrinkled his nose at the salty smell of the sea below.
"May I speak now?" He asked his partner meekly. Montaron shook his head and started off towards the right-hand staircase.
"No. Ye'll ruin it for me." He replied curtly. Xzar stuck his tongue out at the halfling and followed him down the stairs to the Sea's Bounty.
The Inn was warm, and the inviting smell of a hearty meal was beyond tempting...well, to Montaron at least. As they crossed the upper floor of the Inn, which appeared to be just a sitting room of sorts with a staircase leading upstairs to the living quarters, Montaron rubbed his cacophonous stomach.
"I'm gonna eat the first thing I see. I swear to ye, wizard I could eat a moose." He lamented. Xzar pinpointed a staircase at the other end of the room that lead to the lower level and hurried towards it eagerly.
"I want a bath." He decided firmly as he and his associate reached the stairs and clomped down. The lower level of the Sea's Bounty was alot busier than the upper level; the bar was there and about twenty tables cluttered the wooden floor in a way that made it nearly impossible to navigate around without bumping your elbow on someone's head. There was music playing, but no instruments to follow it back to. Near the bar, with his arm resting on the counter, stood an Amnish soldier; it was unclear if the man was on patrol or if he was merely having a good time.
"Ye can wash later, yer eating now." Montaron ordered and shoved his partner into the maze of tables. Xzar weaved through the mess like a snake, peering speculatively at the people in the room.
"But I'm dirty!" He protested as he set his sights on an empty table ten feet from him, "I'm dirty! Like him!" He pointed to a burly, dangerous-looking dwarf seated at a table to his right. Having heard the comment, the dwarf scowled up at him and made to get up, but Montaron quickly turned a sneer down at him and roughly shoved Xzar onward. The dwarf grunted and sat back down, returning to his drink. When Montaron reached the empty table up ahead, Xzar was already seated with his chin resting on his forearms on the table. He walked around behind the wizard and slapped him on the back of the head.
"Brain-dead fool," He grumbled and found himself a seat opposite Xzar, "Next time ye attract negative attention to yerself, I'm gonna stand and watch ye get beaten to a bloody pulp. Is that clear?" He threatened. Judging by the look on Xzar's face, the wizard was most likely not even listening. With a heavy sigh, he turned in his chair and started to look for a serving wench, "Shall we find this Ployer man tonight?" He asked his partner and flagged down a shortish woman with a silver tray. Xzar straightened up in his chair.
"If you so wish it, Monty, then you are most welcome to do so." He replied, omitting himself in the equation. Montaron whirled around and raised an eyebrow. Xzar put a hand to his forehead.
"I'll be much more agreeable with rest." He snapped, "And a bath." The waitress came to a halt by the table then and smiled down at the pair.
"What'll it be, boys?" She asked perkily.
"Something big." Montaron replied at once, "And some ale." The waitress gave him a quick nod and turned to Xzar expectantly. The wizard ignored her and stared up at the ceiling. Montaron gestured to the waitress.
"Get him some stew or something like that." He growled irritably. The waitress nodded perfunctorily again, told them it wouldn't be long, and headed off in the direction of a table not too far off. When she had gone, Montaron slammed his fist down on the small wooden table; some patrons looked around at the commotion, but Montaron got the reaction he wanted from Xzar. The wizard's gaze left the ceiling and returned to him.
"What?" He asked wide-eyed, innocently. Montaron resisted the sudden urge to jump over the table and throttle the man.
"Yer a horse's arse, wizard." He stated plainly, holding the other man's gaze; on the table before him, his hands curled into fists. Xzar frowned and dropped his chin back onto his arms, slumping down on the table like before.
"Oh, pardon me mister Sunshine!" He replied sarcastically, then he frowned and gestured with one hand, "And I'm not hungry, Monty. Is that so hard to understand? Would you like me to draw you a picture?" He pressed. Montaron stared back at him.
"Horse's. Arse." He repeated pointedly, mouthing the words nice and clear. Xzar drew up in his seat and pointed an accusating finger at him.
"You are so agrravating!" He growled angrily then crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow qurikily, "'Tis disturbing to my demeanor!" His voice raised at this and he took on the most haughty, high- and-mighty expression Montaron had ever seen. There was a pause, then Montaron chuckled and shook his head.
"Yer so daft..." He said with great amusement and disbelief, "...oh my god yer so daft..." He shook his head again and allowed himself a quick, harsh laugh. Xzar was indignant.
"It's not funny, Monty." The wizard replied tightly. He would have said more, but the serving wench came back with a decked silver platter. She grinned.
"Great night to be havin' a good time, it is!" She said cheerily upon seeing Montaron's amused expression, "If you boys want anythin' else, jus' lemme know alright?" She added as she unloaded her tray onto their table. Xzar nodded to her and she left; he redirected his gaze to the plate in front of his partner. In it lay a terribly large piece of meat that could very well have been a stray dog from an alleyway nearby; it was steaming and smelled of honey and brown sugar.
"That's almost as big as you." He commented, blinking idly at the dish. Montaron pulled a wide dagger from the vest beneath his armor and began to cut a chunk off the long-dead animal.
"Shut up." He grumbled absently and shoved the piece of meat into his mouth. With his fingers and dagger, he ate ravenously. Xzar tore his eyes from the disgustingly-mesmerizing sight and peered down at his own meal. The iron bowl was filled to the brim with a thick, chunky, brown goop; mind you, it smelled good.
They ate without speaking much, and when the serving wench returned for their gold, they sent her to the bar and told her they'd pay the Innkeeper for some rooms at the same time as for the meal. On the way to the bar, Xzar suddenly decided to be a little clumsy and bumped into quite a few people; whilst he excused himself profusely, Montaron slipped around opposite him and worked his magic on the good patrons' pockets. By the time the pair got to the bar, they had more than enough gold to pay for their meal, and for the two rooms they rented for the night.
***
Morning came quickly for Montaron. Shortly after daybreak, he was startled awake by Xzar, who burst into his room yelling something about a weapon. The halfling sat blot upright in alarm, patting himself in search of a dagger, then dropped his hands heavily as soon as he realized he wasn't being attacked...just annoyed. He let himself fall back against his pillow and sighed heavily. Xzar's face popped up above him. By the looks of it, the wizard had been awake for a very, very long time.
"Monty! I had a dream last night in which I saw that curr Edwin Odessieron at the bar downstairs and I was so angry so I attacked him with my dagger and we fought and he finally stabbed me with his staff -- but it wasn't a staff, Monty, it was a spear-staff with a blade and all!" He paused and caught his breath, his eyes sparkling, then he reached down in a flash and grabbed Montaron's shirt; he spoke in a hushed whisper, "I want a staff like that, Monty!" He hissed, then released the halfing from his grip and made a dismissive gesture with his hand, "And you were there too...you were wearing a funny hat." He added off-handedly. Montaron stared up at him, frowned deeply, then moaned and covered his face with his pillow.
"It's called knocking first, wizard." He grumbled under the pillow, "I can't hear ye." Xzar blinked and looked over at the door, which was still wide open. With a small 'hmph', he started towards it; half way there, Montaron's pillow hit the back of his head.
"It was a joke, ye dolt!" The halfling cried from his bed, "Now what's this about a spear?" He asked and heaved himself out of bed with a heavy sigh. Xzar smiled contentedly and made his way over to the bed.
"'Tis the first time I have a fear of such." He explained, plopping down onto the edge of the bed and frowning, "I...well I don't know, Monty. I just don't feel safe enough on this particular mission." Montaron, who'd been putting on his armor, stopped a moment an furrowed his brow; the wizard's comment had somewhat offended him. As if Xzar knew this, he shook his head and rested his hands on his knees.
"I don't mean to insult you or anything of the sort, Monty, so don't quip at me." He added quickly, staring at the door, "I'm only saying that I have an ill feeling about the times to come. And I wish to be ready." Montaron ajusted the buckles on his arm bracers with sharp motions.
"All that from a stupid dream about hurting Edwin?" He retorted suspiciously, not daring to add the bit about him in a funny hat, as that would surely set the wizard off, "Yer not gettin' cold feet, are ye? We haven't even started yet for god's sake!" He finished up with his bracers and snatched his cloak from the rickety chair near his nightstand. Xzar yawned and layed back.
"No!" He snapped, reaching back for another pillow and sliding it under his head, "Whatever would make you think that I am yellow?" He closed his eyes and folded his hands over his chest. Montaron, ready now, walked up to Xzar and kicked his foot.
"Let's go. Ployer awaits." He said. Xzar didn't budge.
"Off you go then, Monty. Wake me when you find out what Ployer wants." He drawled lazily, then yelped as he was grabbed by the arms and yanked back up to a semi-standing position, then shoved towards the open door. Montaron followed close behind.
"Ye woke me up, ye suffer." The halfling declared with cruel satisfaction. He shut the door behind him and followed after the sweeping emerald cloak that strode quickly down the hallway, its wearer mumbling disjointedly.
It had been exactly eight months since his last mission. Despite his intense desire to return to his home in Cormyr, he had been forced to spend each and every one of those eight months of liberty here, in Amn, licking his wounds from the previous mission. The Red Wizard he and his partner had tracked down and killed had packed an immense surprise for them when they had finally cornered and exposed him: the wizard wasn't a man at all, but rather a dragon. A large, angry red dragon named Thaxylliarvas. It had dumbfounded and horrified he and his partner, but they had managed to strike the beast down...using, of course, very rudimentary tactics. In other words, it had come down to making his partner dash about and divert the dragon's attention, whilst he hacked away like mad after fidning his way atop the creature's back. Surprise surprise, Thaxylliarvas had fallen within fifteen minutes.
Montaron thoughtfully fingered the dragonscale armor he wore and smirked cockily. At least he'd gotten something out of the deal...well, other than scars, gold and a sensitive knee, of course. He was currently standing in the sitting room of a derelict house, waiting for his employer to make his appearance and let him know what it was that he and his partner were needed for. The house itself was situated in the slums of Amn, where every petty crook, swindler and poor bastard could be seen at least twice a day if you stood outside and wacthed the streets. This was not Montaron's favourite place to be, nor was it his partner's, but as Zhentarim agents they didn't have much choice when it came to keeping a low profile.
Idly, Montaron looked around to find his partner who, for some reason, was being strangely quiet. He found the man not ten feet away, bent sideways and peering into an oddly-shaped glass tank that appeared to be an aquarium of sorts. As if the other man had felt Montaron's eyes on him, he spoke without turning.
"Monty!" The man called in an excited half-whisper, "You really must see this!" Montaron rolled his eyes.
"They're fish, ye daft wizard! Get yerself away from there before someone sees ye acting like a blasted fool." He growled back. Of course, if his employer did see his partner acting like a fool, he or she probably wouldn't care. Anyone who had ever been remotely near Xzar for more than 5 minutes could tell that the man was at least partially insane. Despite the occasional twitching and random exclamations however, Xzar was a deceptively clever fellow -- which was surely why the Zhents kept him under their hand. It was Montaron's second year in partnership with the wizard after being paired with him by a previous employer, and though he didn't understand -- and often had difficulty tolerating -- Xzar most of the time, he acknowledged the man's arcane talents and didn't really mind working with him. After all, a sticky-fingered halfling such as himself would look much less suspicious travelling with a human wizard than roaming about alone.
"Why must you always be so moody?" Xzar complained, turning away from the tank and slowly making his way back to his partner, "Do you not find anything amusing other than sinking your blade into some poor fellow's gullet?" He stopped beside the shorter man and smoothed the front of his robes. Montaron snorted.
"Not really, no." He answered curtly, then an evil grin slowly crept onto his face, "Though I was rather amused by yer silence a few minutes ago..." His grin was instantly replaced by a scowl as Xzar's fist connected with his shoulder. As if on cue, an elaborately-robed man appeared in the doorway that lead further back into the house. He looked thoroughly unimpressed, irritated and tired; his slender hands were clasped just as tightly as his thin lips. His eyes darted from the grinning Xzar to the sneering Montaron and seemed to be wondering if these two were indeed the pair he was supposed to be meeting. Finally, he spoke.
"Hello." His voice was accented, "My name is Edwin Odessieron, but you..." He paused and frowned, "...simians may refer to me as merely 'sir' if you prefer a less intense syllabic workout." He forced a smile and it ended up making him look like he was in pain, "You have been hired -- and not by me, I assure you -- to retrieve Terrece, a member of the High Council of the Zhentarim, from SpellHold." His frown deepened as Xzar's grin disappeared and was replaced by a look of utter disbelief, "Yes, I realize that you are blundering idiots and I must admit that I considered not even relaying this task to you and reporting back with the news of your sudden deaths..." He sneered, "...but my superirors were quite adamant in the matter." Montaron scowled darkly up at him.
"Do ye realize what yer askin'?!" He cried incredulously, "How in the nine Hells are we supposed to get into SpellHold? We can't exactly walk up to the Government District, grab a Cowled Wizard by the throat and demand to be tele-whatever'd there! If we so much as mention SpellHold the authorities will be on us like flies on crap!" Beside him, Xzar snickered. Edwin, however, remained unimpressed.
"Whoa there, vertically-challenged one. Relax." He drawled in mock- soothing and Montaron shot him a look of death, "I've arranged for you to meet with a Mr. Ployer in the Docks District just southwest of here. Mister Ployer can help you with your task if you help him in turn." He smiled bitterly, "You see, we owe Mister Ployer a favor, and it is very important for us to keep our slate clean if you see what I am saying." He turned a dull look upon Xzar and added dryly, "Though I would think not." At this Xzar snapped.
"I understand you perfectly well, Mister Odessieron." The wizard cut in sharply, eyeing the other man irritably, "I would suggest you cease your incessant mockery before you find yourself short a few limbs." He smiled chillingly and beside him, Montaron's hand rested atop the hilt of his sword. Edwin scoffed.
"Do not threaten me, tool. It is not in your best interest." He purred and returned Xzar's cold smile, "Now then. Find Ployer and he will provide further details at his convenience. I will be monitoring your progress, if any, and should you need serious help feel free to consult me. I will be in the Docks district as well -- inquire about Mae'Var's guildhouse and you will find me therein." He flicked a speck off the sleeve of his crimson robe, "I am a busy man, so try your very best not to bother me." He raised an eyebrow at his hirelings, "That is all. Off with you. And don't screw up."
Montaron grabbed Xzar, who was standing quite still and staring intently at Edwin, by the arm and shoved him towards the door behind them, "Sleep lightly, task master!" He called over his shoulder at Edwin as he and his partner exited the house. When they were outside, Xzar slammed the door loudly.
"Monty," He declared pointedly, "I don't think I like that man." Montaron chuckled.
"The feelin's more'n mutual, wizard." He motioned to the road ahead, "Move. Let's get this over with quickly; I don't want to deal with that troll any longer'n I have to." He urged. They moved to the roadside and started in the direction of the southern district exit. It was late afternoon and very few people haunted the streets; Montaron figured that by this hour, most of the town's inhabitants -- well, those who had any money -- had all gathered at the tavern. Xzar frowned and began to finger the cuff of his sleeve.
"As much as I hate to admit it, that Odessieron fellow voiced a half- decent concern." He remarked, "The man we're to free from SpellHold sounds rather stately. We may not be the kind of help needed for the situation..." He looked down at Montaron, "...improvised dragonslaying and assassinations are one thing, but taking on the Cowled Wizards of SpellHold is entirely different...and, I'm afraid, distinctly out of our league." Montaron shrugged at this.
"So what're ye sayin'?" He retorted derisively, "That someone up in the ranks has a speech impediment and that names got mangled along that way to Edwin? Bah." He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, "They hired us for a reason." Xzar nodded.
"Exactly!" He exclaimed and kicked a small grey cat out of his way, "It's my hypothesis that we've been chosen to accomplish this particular task because we don't have a public face. Think about it, Monty. We haven't really done anything monumental, and if you mention my name or yours in the average local tavern, not one pair of ears would quirk. If this Terrece fellow is really a member of the High Council --" He paused and rolled his eyes, "-- and, from previous experience, there is a distinct possibility that he may very well not be -- then the law will be on the lookout for the 'Zhent Top Ten', so to speak. Being of lower rank, it should be easier to slip about without encountering too much resistance." He smiled contentedly at this but Montaron seemed unimpressed.
"Whatever." He grumbled, "Either way, all of Amn'll be right crawlin' with soldiers and spies and the like. To Hell with yer guessin', wizard; I say we'll run into just as much resistance as any remotely suspicious individual." He then added lightly, "Not that I'm complainin' about the resistance, mind you." Xzar laughed shortly.
"Not that you would, no." He replied with a smirk. As they rounded a corner, an ashen-faced woman on her front step stared at them as they passed by. Xzar waved and the woman dashed back inside her house at once, "Well that was rude." He mumbled calmly. Montaron snorted.
"How many times do I have to tell ye, wizard? No one likes ye." He shook his head, scanning the deserted road ahead, "Yer a freak." Xzar sighed and looked down at himself, then compulsively combed his relatively- short hair with his fingers.
"Shut up! You're the short one with pointed ears and hairy feet!" He quipped defensively, fighting to keep his voice down. Montaron lashed out with his arm and hit the wizard across the lower ribs.
"Be quiet, ye blasted fool!" He snapped at once as Xzar doubled over and fell behind, "Can we not speak for a while? Eh? That way at least one of us will keep his sanity." There came the sound of hurried footsteps and soon Xzar had caught up with him again. The wizard stared straight ahead sulkily. Montaron grinned widely and sighed.
"Ahhhhhh," He breathed nice and loud, "There we go. There's that blessed silence again."
They travelled in silence as the day wore thin. It was early fall in Amn and the wind got chilly when dusk settled in. When the sun went down in the slums, it was darker than in any other populated region; there were very few lights the further away one got from the Tavern, and stray animals came out of their hiding places in the alleys to take advantage of nocturnal prey. The streets were even more barren of life than they were during the day. Montaron nearly jogged to keep up with Xzar's long strides as the two of them quickly made their way to the District exit and towards the inviting stone archway that marked the entrance to the Docks.
The difference was shocking at best. The houses in this part of Amn were illuminated and decent-looking, a few people walked the streets either leisurely or on their way home, shouts and chatter wafted up from the Sea's Bounty -- the local Inn and Tavern -- in the center of the town. The Docks district was built on slanted ground, and two long, opposing stairwells loftily snaked down and through the town until they reached the seaside, where tethered boats of all shapes and sizes gently swayed in the waves. Montaron took a deep breath.
"Now this is better. Not great, but better." He declared with satisfaction. Beside him, Xzar wrinkled his nose at the salty smell of the sea below.
"May I speak now?" He asked his partner meekly. Montaron shook his head and started off towards the right-hand staircase.
"No. Ye'll ruin it for me." He replied curtly. Xzar stuck his tongue out at the halfling and followed him down the stairs to the Sea's Bounty.
The Inn was warm, and the inviting smell of a hearty meal was beyond tempting...well, to Montaron at least. As they crossed the upper floor of the Inn, which appeared to be just a sitting room of sorts with a staircase leading upstairs to the living quarters, Montaron rubbed his cacophonous stomach.
"I'm gonna eat the first thing I see. I swear to ye, wizard I could eat a moose." He lamented. Xzar pinpointed a staircase at the other end of the room that lead to the lower level and hurried towards it eagerly.
"I want a bath." He decided firmly as he and his associate reached the stairs and clomped down. The lower level of the Sea's Bounty was alot busier than the upper level; the bar was there and about twenty tables cluttered the wooden floor in a way that made it nearly impossible to navigate around without bumping your elbow on someone's head. There was music playing, but no instruments to follow it back to. Near the bar, with his arm resting on the counter, stood an Amnish soldier; it was unclear if the man was on patrol or if he was merely having a good time.
"Ye can wash later, yer eating now." Montaron ordered and shoved his partner into the maze of tables. Xzar weaved through the mess like a snake, peering speculatively at the people in the room.
"But I'm dirty!" He protested as he set his sights on an empty table ten feet from him, "I'm dirty! Like him!" He pointed to a burly, dangerous-looking dwarf seated at a table to his right. Having heard the comment, the dwarf scowled up at him and made to get up, but Montaron quickly turned a sneer down at him and roughly shoved Xzar onward. The dwarf grunted and sat back down, returning to his drink. When Montaron reached the empty table up ahead, Xzar was already seated with his chin resting on his forearms on the table. He walked around behind the wizard and slapped him on the back of the head.
"Brain-dead fool," He grumbled and found himself a seat opposite Xzar, "Next time ye attract negative attention to yerself, I'm gonna stand and watch ye get beaten to a bloody pulp. Is that clear?" He threatened. Judging by the look on Xzar's face, the wizard was most likely not even listening. With a heavy sigh, he turned in his chair and started to look for a serving wench, "Shall we find this Ployer man tonight?" He asked his partner and flagged down a shortish woman with a silver tray. Xzar straightened up in his chair.
"If you so wish it, Monty, then you are most welcome to do so." He replied, omitting himself in the equation. Montaron whirled around and raised an eyebrow. Xzar put a hand to his forehead.
"I'll be much more agreeable with rest." He snapped, "And a bath." The waitress came to a halt by the table then and smiled down at the pair.
"What'll it be, boys?" She asked perkily.
"Something big." Montaron replied at once, "And some ale." The waitress gave him a quick nod and turned to Xzar expectantly. The wizard ignored her and stared up at the ceiling. Montaron gestured to the waitress.
"Get him some stew or something like that." He growled irritably. The waitress nodded perfunctorily again, told them it wouldn't be long, and headed off in the direction of a table not too far off. When she had gone, Montaron slammed his fist down on the small wooden table; some patrons looked around at the commotion, but Montaron got the reaction he wanted from Xzar. The wizard's gaze left the ceiling and returned to him.
"What?" He asked wide-eyed, innocently. Montaron resisted the sudden urge to jump over the table and throttle the man.
"Yer a horse's arse, wizard." He stated plainly, holding the other man's gaze; on the table before him, his hands curled into fists. Xzar frowned and dropped his chin back onto his arms, slumping down on the table like before.
"Oh, pardon me mister Sunshine!" He replied sarcastically, then he frowned and gestured with one hand, "And I'm not hungry, Monty. Is that so hard to understand? Would you like me to draw you a picture?" He pressed. Montaron stared back at him.
"Horse's. Arse." He repeated pointedly, mouthing the words nice and clear. Xzar drew up in his seat and pointed an accusating finger at him.
"You are so agrravating!" He growled angrily then crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow qurikily, "'Tis disturbing to my demeanor!" His voice raised at this and he took on the most haughty, high- and-mighty expression Montaron had ever seen. There was a pause, then Montaron chuckled and shook his head.
"Yer so daft..." He said with great amusement and disbelief, "...oh my god yer so daft..." He shook his head again and allowed himself a quick, harsh laugh. Xzar was indignant.
"It's not funny, Monty." The wizard replied tightly. He would have said more, but the serving wench came back with a decked silver platter. She grinned.
"Great night to be havin' a good time, it is!" She said cheerily upon seeing Montaron's amused expression, "If you boys want anythin' else, jus' lemme know alright?" She added as she unloaded her tray onto their table. Xzar nodded to her and she left; he redirected his gaze to the plate in front of his partner. In it lay a terribly large piece of meat that could very well have been a stray dog from an alleyway nearby; it was steaming and smelled of honey and brown sugar.
"That's almost as big as you." He commented, blinking idly at the dish. Montaron pulled a wide dagger from the vest beneath his armor and began to cut a chunk off the long-dead animal.
"Shut up." He grumbled absently and shoved the piece of meat into his mouth. With his fingers and dagger, he ate ravenously. Xzar tore his eyes from the disgustingly-mesmerizing sight and peered down at his own meal. The iron bowl was filled to the brim with a thick, chunky, brown goop; mind you, it smelled good.
They ate without speaking much, and when the serving wench returned for their gold, they sent her to the bar and told her they'd pay the Innkeeper for some rooms at the same time as for the meal. On the way to the bar, Xzar suddenly decided to be a little clumsy and bumped into quite a few people; whilst he excused himself profusely, Montaron slipped around opposite him and worked his magic on the good patrons' pockets. By the time the pair got to the bar, they had more than enough gold to pay for their meal, and for the two rooms they rented for the night.
***
Morning came quickly for Montaron. Shortly after daybreak, he was startled awake by Xzar, who burst into his room yelling something about a weapon. The halfling sat blot upright in alarm, patting himself in search of a dagger, then dropped his hands heavily as soon as he realized he wasn't being attacked...just annoyed. He let himself fall back against his pillow and sighed heavily. Xzar's face popped up above him. By the looks of it, the wizard had been awake for a very, very long time.
"Monty! I had a dream last night in which I saw that curr Edwin Odessieron at the bar downstairs and I was so angry so I attacked him with my dagger and we fought and he finally stabbed me with his staff -- but it wasn't a staff, Monty, it was a spear-staff with a blade and all!" He paused and caught his breath, his eyes sparkling, then he reached down in a flash and grabbed Montaron's shirt; he spoke in a hushed whisper, "I want a staff like that, Monty!" He hissed, then released the halfing from his grip and made a dismissive gesture with his hand, "And you were there too...you were wearing a funny hat." He added off-handedly. Montaron stared up at him, frowned deeply, then moaned and covered his face with his pillow.
"It's called knocking first, wizard." He grumbled under the pillow, "I can't hear ye." Xzar blinked and looked over at the door, which was still wide open. With a small 'hmph', he started towards it; half way there, Montaron's pillow hit the back of his head.
"It was a joke, ye dolt!" The halfling cried from his bed, "Now what's this about a spear?" He asked and heaved himself out of bed with a heavy sigh. Xzar smiled contentedly and made his way over to the bed.
"'Tis the first time I have a fear of such." He explained, plopping down onto the edge of the bed and frowning, "I...well I don't know, Monty. I just don't feel safe enough on this particular mission." Montaron, who'd been putting on his armor, stopped a moment an furrowed his brow; the wizard's comment had somewhat offended him. As if Xzar knew this, he shook his head and rested his hands on his knees.
"I don't mean to insult you or anything of the sort, Monty, so don't quip at me." He added quickly, staring at the door, "I'm only saying that I have an ill feeling about the times to come. And I wish to be ready." Montaron ajusted the buckles on his arm bracers with sharp motions.
"All that from a stupid dream about hurting Edwin?" He retorted suspiciously, not daring to add the bit about him in a funny hat, as that would surely set the wizard off, "Yer not gettin' cold feet, are ye? We haven't even started yet for god's sake!" He finished up with his bracers and snatched his cloak from the rickety chair near his nightstand. Xzar yawned and layed back.
"No!" He snapped, reaching back for another pillow and sliding it under his head, "Whatever would make you think that I am yellow?" He closed his eyes and folded his hands over his chest. Montaron, ready now, walked up to Xzar and kicked his foot.
"Let's go. Ployer awaits." He said. Xzar didn't budge.
"Off you go then, Monty. Wake me when you find out what Ployer wants." He drawled lazily, then yelped as he was grabbed by the arms and yanked back up to a semi-standing position, then shoved towards the open door. Montaron followed close behind.
"Ye woke me up, ye suffer." The halfling declared with cruel satisfaction. He shut the door behind him and followed after the sweeping emerald cloak that strode quickly down the hallway, its wearer mumbling disjointedly.