A/N: Some group interaction for you, and some light to be shed on the unknown danger that lurks ahead. Just one thing: the site's being acting funny with my formating today, so there might be some italics lacking... I hope that's not the case, as you know italics are the only way to mark Enserric's dialogue, but if so, I apologize. Now, I'll let you read, enjoy, and comment –

Campfire revelations

The fire cracked when Jarlaxle threw another log to the flames, and its orange glow flared up momentarily before dying down again.

They had made lousy time that day, but then again it was only to be expected: the cart now had one horse to pull its weight instead of two, and while they all were stuck walking – Tyler Folrn included – it was still much too heavy for the beast.

Besides, even if the fight itself hadn't taken too long, the picking the of corpses, the disposing of them, and the rearranging of their traveling duties and positions had certainly slowed them down.

No matter that when the sun started to go down Yria had tried to get the merchant to push to wagon – it hadn't gone any faster, and they had been forced to camp in the wilderness.

It wasn't something that bothered Jarlaxle terribly. Artemis and he had done plenty of camping while escaping from his traitorous lieutenants not too long ago, and it was one of the very basic things that a mercenary such as himself had to be comfortable with in order to win his salt.

But it was oh so very boring.

Jarlaxle poked the fire some more, and sighed. He was pulling first watch, and it was proving to be entirely uneventful.

As a matter of fact, the whole trip was proving to be much more quiet than expected. Out of Beregost, they had gone south and east for days and days before trouble managed to find them. And the band of bandits that had assaulted them once the group had hit the Uldoon Trail barely accounted as trouble for the seasoned mercenary.

The drow was starting to feel thoroughly cheated.

Besides, there was just so much amusement to be found in watching the shapes of the dancing flames and in listening to his sleeping companions' even breaths.

It was only a matter of time before he turned to the only source of entertainment available, really.

"This is much more beautiful than the Underdark, isn't it?" he commented.

Rizolvir was forced to lift his gaze from the spell book he was studying by the firelight. The unwavering gaze of the one eyed rogue had been unsettling him for a while, and when the older drow decided to start speaking aloud, he guessed that he had no other option but to acknowledge that yes, Jarlaxle had every intention of talking to him that night.

And he had been doing such a wonderful job of avoiding him for all of the last week too… Pity.

"I find the open spaces bothersome and the scenery overrated, but feel free to hold your own judgment," he said quietly.

"Oh? But if you don't like it, why did you come up here?"

None of your business, Rizolvir wanted to say. But he held himself in check. Being blunt with a drow never paid off, after all.

"As you are aware, I do not have a House to serve. And while I have experienced the life of a craftsman, I find that existence to be lacking in long term expectations, so I came to seek some profit and improvement. Much like yourself, I assume."

Improvement? Oh, I get it… you were done with feeling up all kinds of weapons and decided to improve your sex life by following Yria, uh? Don't know pal, she seems to be as stiff as the next longsword…

Rizolvir shifted his position and discreetly allowed his booted heel to come into contact with the scabbard of his unbelted sword, which rested well within grasping range. Other than that, he masterfully ignored the sentient weapon's comments.

It was something he did not want to think about, and thankfully Jarlaxle's conversation prevented him from doing so.

"Well, yes, I guess I did," the rogue chuckled. "But I do find the surface liberating, don't you? Mostly after having been oppressed by females for so long. You used to work with the Valsharess, right?"

The spellsword smirked. The Valsharess. The Empress of the Underdark. Ah, if only his partner knew…

Ruby eyes glinted at Jarlaxle from the shadows, and Rizolvir's smirk eased into a somewhat enigmatic smile.

"You seem to be quite interested in the Valsharess, abbil. I wonder why?"

Jarlaxle shrugged nonchalantly, carefully masking the fact that he was really close to getting the answer to one of the many question he had concerning his new associates.

"Yria brought her name up when we met," he said. Then, he watched carefully and added, "And so did Eldath when he told me about his… about Yria's Future Markets."

If he had been expecting the name to bring up any kind of reaction, he was in for a disappointment. Rizolvir didn't so much as stir.

"You have not cut your ties to the drow if you recognize her name," he merely pointed out.

"Why should I?" Jarlaxle asked in turn, tensing up slightly. There was no real reason to keep Bregan D'aerthe as a secret but… it was too much of an ingrained habit to even consider discussing it with a complete stranger.

"I merely wonder why you would feel the need to fake as if you had," and the smile in Rizolvir's face gained a trace of smugness.

Jarlaxle blinked.

It was the second time he had a one on one talk with the warrior mage, and it was the second time he was somehow put on the defensive. Either his own abilities had rusted beyond the unthinkable – which would be entirely Entreri's fault, for not allowing him to practice – or the drow in front of him wasn't quite as harmless as he seemed to be.

It had better be the second option, Jarlaxle thought. He'd hate to be losing his edge.

The rogue smiled and inclined his head, graciously admitting defeat in the first round of verbal sparring, but he was far from letting go. There were things that he still didn't know about Yria and Rizolvir, even if most of his questions regarding the duo had been solved somewhere along their previous adventure.

One of the bothersome bits that still escaped him was the nature of their relationship with the Empress, and by association with his new lieutenant, Eldath.

And by the looks of it, his attempts at solving the mystery had been thwarted yet again.

Still, he couldn't very well let Rizolvir walk away from the conversation believing that he had won.

"Ah, you should know better than to try to understand the drow."

Ruby eyes twinkled, and Rizolvir snorted with amusement.

"I would not dream of understanding your mind, rest assured. I am positive that the results would leave me scarred for life."

Jarlaxle chuckled softly, and realized what it was that infuriated him so about dealing with the spellsword.

He hadn't dealt with drow wit in a long, long time. Firstly, because his latest ventures seemed to involve more surfacers than dark elves, and secondly because it had been a long time since anyone in Menzoberranzan had actually tried to banter on par with him.

The revelation was well worth some sincerity on his part.

"I confess that I'm curious about the Valsharess in that she seems to be an important part of who Yria is now – and who she is to you," he admitted carefully. "I can't help but wonder what does it take for a drow to follow a human."

Rizolvir stared at Jarlaxle long and hard, and finally he sighed and tucked his spell book aside. This was a conversation that was long due, and there shouldn't come any trouble from it.

Probably not, anyway.

"There is not such an important link as the one you seem to seek. The Valsharess rose, Yria killed her. There is nothing else to the story," he explained quietly, and his eyes were serious as he did.

"I see," though in truth, Jarlaxle didn't. That the two females had been on opposite sides was a theory that hadn't crossed his mind, and it didn't seem to be consistent with the whole Eldath business.

The rogue decided to grasp this honesty streak and asked away.

"So where does Eldath fit, then?"

"I do not know who he is. I have never heard that name before we met you."

Uh-oh, Jarlaxle thought. Had his relationship with the sorceress been a secret that he had just busted?

"If you want to find out that badly, you might be interested in asking Yria herself. I do not believe she will have a reason to conceal the answers," Rizolvir whispered, as if he had read the rogue's thoughts. "But I believe your mind would be put to better use if you tried to understand yourself before attempting to figure out anyone else.

"Where does the profit lay, Jarlaxle?"

Said elf stared at the former smith, his visible garnet eye narrowed in thought at the other's words.

Just what did that drowling think that he was implying?

It was obvious that profit was…

Wherever it was, it would have to wait because something was definitely not right.

To be honest, something hadn't been right for the longest while, but the two had managed to ignore it.

It irritated Jarlaxle that the spellsword had waited until it had become noticeable enough that they were forced to acknowledge it to throw his final barb, thus effectively getting the last word in.

He was so going to get back at Rizolvir as soon as they figured out why everything was dark.

Well, yes, it was the dead of the night so it was supposed to be dark, but not even the dead of the night should shroud them in such pitch black.

At least, not to their infrared vision.

Their glowing eyes, used to the sunless pits, could not pierce through the velvety shadows that had closed in around the campsite, and their keep elven ears couldn't catch anything unusual to explain this fact.

Everything was eerie calm. It was not the cricket singing in the moonlight kind of calm, though; and neither was it the silence of the dead tomb-like kind of calm. It was the kind of calm you get when all sound reaches you through still water.

Or through sandy rock walls.

"Underdark calm," Jarlaxle realized with a start.

Rizolvir lifted a deceptively delicate eyebrow in questioning and slid his hand towards Enserric, who had been sulking since his earlier kick.

"Is this what we have been waiting for?"

Jarlaxle casually touched one of his many earrings, activating its power with a thought as he drew one of his daggers and elongated it with a flick of his wrist.

"No, I don't think so," he said when his magical examination turned up nothing. "But waking the others up just in case can't hurt."

The rogue elf picked up a pebble and threw it half a foot away from Entreri's head. The sound was minimal, the disruption unnoticeable… but the man woke up with a frown, his jeweled dagger at the ready and his other hand slipping around Charon's Claw.

Another pebble was sent to Yria, but the results were quite different. She didn't even stir.

A second lucky throw hit her head, and it succeeded in rousing her long enough to grumble,

"Jus' five mo' minutes, please."

Entreri cursed. They were being attacked here, the least she could do was actually wake up!

Jarlaxle should probably had been angry too – she had magic at her disposal that could come in handy – but the mercenary was more amused. He had never met anyone, human or otherwise, so carefree. Probably Artemis could learn a thing or two about loosening up from her, he thought.

Unless she was under the effects of some spell or drug?

Just one person knew.

"Is she always like that?" he asked, turning to Rizolvir and momentarily putting away any concern for the impending attack in favor of satiating his newest curiosity bout.

The other drow chose to ignore him, though.

"It is circling to the right," Rizolvir's voice was tense and his body was rotating as he spoke, his ruby eyes staring intently at one point of the darkness.

Forget about Yria's sleeping habits. Could that smith actually see anything?

"How do you know? I see nothing," and I've got magical enhancements to my eyes, he added silently.

Rizolvir started and spared a glance to the one eyed drow, before turning around again with a weird look in his face.

"I know because the areas where I cannot see have changed," he replied at length, matter-of-factly.

"Ah, yes, that makes sense."

What didn't make sense was that he, Jarlaxle, hadn't realized sooner. The rogue gave a sly look to the other drow, and found himself wondering for the second time in the same night just who that spellsword was.

Close call, pal, Enserric chuckled in the back of Rizolvir's head. Now he thinks you are suspicious.

"I could not care less," the warrior mage snorted. "I find him to be a suspicious character myself, so I suppose that makes us even. Now keep me updated and save the chat for later."

Geez, you're no fun. Well... It's still circling to the right, but it's not coming any closer. And there doesn't seem to be a second presence, so save me the question.

Rizolvir nodded and kept his senses trained in the sword in his hand. Instinctively, he signaled for Entreri to move over, keeping up with the foe only he could see, and somehow the assassin did just that – after having thrown a suitably murderous glare his way for daring to order him around, of course.

Able to think clearer with the skillful Calishite standing between a very sleeping Yria and a very unknown threat, he directed his thoughts to Enserric again.

I am in your head, I know what you're going to ask. And no, I don't know what it is, honest. Feels like an outsider, but I can't tell where from. Smells somewhat familiar, though… I'm sure I could nail it if I got a taste.

"This is when you make your useful suggestions."

…

Search me.

The drow cursed in his native tongue and physically glared at the blade in his hands.

Doing so, he caught sight of something most interesting reflected on the sentient sword's edge.

"This foe, it is not approaching, is it?"

Not a step.

Rizolvir nodded and sought Jarlaxle out. The drow was crouched low, one dagger extended into his customary blade and another waiting in his hand, ready to be thrown should a blank arise, and the spellsword quickly started to signal to him.

Jarlaxle smirked and nodded, and then started to search through his vest and his belt pouches.

It seemed like forever until the dark elf pulled out a bag with small ceramic marbles, his smirk widening into a mischievous grin as he signaled with abbreviated and exaggerated hand movements for both Rizolvir and Entreri to close their eyes.

Entreri took a few steps back, Rizolvir discreetly pointed the appropriate spot…

And for a split second, the sun shone.

Then the dead of the night came back, and through their ruined vision the three mercenaries could see blotches of light and shadows upon shadows – the threes, the undulating grass and the stars up in the inky heavens.

The presence was gone.

"Jarlaxle?"

"Yes, Artemis?"

"You had absolutely nothing to do with that, right?"

The drow faked a hurt look, covering his heart with his right hand as he secured his weapons back in their hiding places.

"Why, Artemis! I don't know why you'd think such a thing! Of course I had nothing to do with that."

The assassin pierced him with a 'look', and Jarlaxle sighed.

"Really. I'm serious this time."

"Then I think it is high time we ask Mr. Folrn for details of this job," the man said somberly.

"I agree. We have diverted the attack this once, but we cannot hope for continuing luck if we ignore what we are up against."

Entreri nodded in Rizolvir's direction, and then stalked off to rouse their patron. The elf made to follow, but an inquisitive look from Jarlaxle stopped him in his tracks.

"Do we ignore what we're up against, I wonder?"

"Unless you know something we do not."

Jarlaxle merely tilted his head to the side and tapped his index finger against his chin, thoughtful.

"And yet that was one lucky move you orchestrated."

Suspicious, I told you.

"He already covets you after the havoc you brought upon the elemental. I do not intend to give him any more reasons to desire my possessions." And his face didn't change its expression as he said aloud,

"Lucky indeed. Do you wish to discuss fate now, or shall we accompany Artemis Entreri and oversee his interrogation of our employer?"

Jarlaxle flinched. Probably it was not a good idea to leave a recently awakened, pissed Artemis and a secretive Mr. Forln alone for too long, lest the employer was no more.

Still, the look that he threw over his shoulder as he went said very clearly that he knew that something was amiss, and that he had every intention of finding out what.

Ah, you're jealous! My, my, so cute!

"… Then again, probably he will change his mind and leave me alone if he learns the truth of your big mouth."

The sword imagined a life of service hung at the hip of the extravagant drow, and the certainty that Jarlaxle would indeed find a way to shape-change it to better suit his sense of aesthetics made a shiver run through the blade's conscience.

Let's not test that theory. After all, I've grown to love my little drowling here!

Rizolvir simply rolled his eyes and stalked forward.

In his own way, he did appreciate the antics of his sword, too.

But said sword couldn't revel in this particular thought of its master, because at that moment a loud stutter called for the attention of the drow.

Apparently, the small caravan master had been awake all along.

The man was half hiding under the cart, where his bedding was extended, and he cowered in fear against one of the big wheels.

Rizolvir exchanged a look with Jarlaxle.

They knew Entreri could be scary, but surely he hadn't yet had time to leave Folrn in such a state?

"They are back – They are back – They are back - …"

No, Artemis wasn't to blame for that brand of craziness.

The assassin proved to have little to no consideration for the state of the wretch, though.

Roughly grabbing the merchant and hauling him out of his hiding place, the man stared into unfocused eyes with the promise of immediate, painful death clearly reflected in his gray orbs.

"Who are they?"

Fear of the very present man proved to win over fear of the unseen assailants, and Tyler Folrn looked into Entreri's eyes as he attempted to put his answer together.

"I – I don't know! You have to believe me! I don't know who they are - !"

"And yet you fear them so?"

"You have felt it too! And they are following me! They won't let me go! That's why I hired you… You can't let them get me!"

The man actually started to cry and whimper at that point, and Entreri let go of him in disgust.

Still hovering close, though, the Calishite asked in a dangerous whisper,

"Why are they following you?"

"I don't know what they want!" Entreri's hand went to his dagger, all patience worn out, and the merchant paled and hurried to add, "But it all started when I got the book!"

The three mercenaries looked at each other.

Curious, Jarlaxle decided that Entreri had been civilized enough and that it was time for him to take over the interrogation.

"What book might that be, Master Folrn?"

The terrified man seemed to calm some at the even tone of the drow, and when he managed to collect enough air to speak without choking, he started to explain.

"I… I was doing the route south of the Coast Way, as always, and then someone approached me with this book… Folk looked normal enough, and he said that it was a copy of a work of Candlekeep's library… Something or other about magic, and he just needed me to get it to Berdusk. I was going to pass by Berdusk anyway! So – So I accepted it! It was supposed to make me rich, not to get me killed!"

The drow sighed. Obviously Tyler Folrn wasn't very bright, and someone smarter had decided to pawn the book on him… For what purposes, though, was yet to be determined.

"How are they going to get you killed, Master Folrn? Are these shadows recurrent?"

The merchant nodded frantically.

"Not just the shadows… The monsters, and the robbers, and the things that have been assaulting me! Never before had a trip been like this – I know it must be the book!"

"We should probably have a look at this mysterious book," Rizolvir commented quietly.

It took a moment for the merchant to register that it actually was an order, and then he fumbled and produced a somewhat thin leather bound book and handed it over.

It looked more like a journal than like a book, Rizolvir surmised as he turned it over in his hands, but the pages were filled with small and neat calligraphy in a language he only half understood.

He shook his head and passed the book to Jarlaxle.

"The document might be a copy, but its contents are ancient. I cannot decipher it, but there is a good chance that this is indeed the reason behind tonight's visit."

Jarlaxle did a cursory examination. He had trinkets and resources to learn what the book said, but he couldn't use them in front of everyone.

It wouldn't do for them to learn of his tricks.

Still, even just by looking, he could tell that there was some important information in there. The manuscript just made his 'powerful item on sight' sense tingle all over.

He debated with himself for a few heartbeats, between what he wanted to do and what he should do.

Finally, his newfound sense of contrition towards his long time companion won over and he asked,

"Artemis? Can we keep it?"