There was only one place Arik knew to look for Kyri. It was also the most obvious, easiest to find, and least original. M'lady Kyri of Candlekeep in a nutshell.

The Copper Coronet was the true symbol of Athkatla, the City of Coin. Just as how on the busy market streets you could find nearly anything for sale, in the Copper Coronet you could hire anyone to do just about any job. The only thing limiting any prospective partnership was the moral integrity of those involved, and, in the City of Coin, said morals are quite hard to find. Rumor was that the Coronet even traded in slaves, and if Arik, who had only just arrived, knew, then the local guard must be receiving some very large donations indeed.

As Arik stepped into the tavern, the night seemed to be already in full swing. He paused at the door and looked about the room, finding exactly what he expected. A handful of seasoned warriors, looking for their next job; countless young punks, more muscles than brains, trying to look like they were the big, strong men in the joint, just the sort to start a fight at the drop of a hat.

Arik also noticed two 'co-workers', one making a rather good pull from one of the brainless sword-arms, the other also with a good pull, but choosing perhaps the wrong target, one of the experienced folk.

And, finally, he noticed a slight, Elven sorceress doing her best to not be seen. Sadly, she was not good at this at all. Somehow, with a cloak worn with the hood covering her ears, sitting with her back to the corner of the room, shoulders hunched, she was more conspicuous than she would be sitting in the middle of the room half naked. The cloak, oh the cloak, black as midnight and obvious as the sun. It was like she's seen the dance but didn't know all of the moves. It was funny, almost.

Arik gave a grim smile. He really wasn't expecting it to be this easy. Kyri really should've known better than to hide in the Coronet. So, while her attention was diverted to the evening's melee, started off with a well-executed cross to a pickpocket's jaw, Arik moved to her table, staying out of sight as best he could.

He slipped behind her and whispered into her ear, or where her ear would be under the cloak, "You don't know how I feel for Im."

Kyri actually jumped a little at this, stammering out "Arik, wha-" before he cut her off.

"No. You can't do this alone," he said, sitting down beside her. "I understand how you feel, I really do. I even agree with you about Jahiera and Minsc, they've lost too much as it is. But I will not let you go off and get yourself killed. No chance. You're stuck with me, like it or not."

Kyri glared at him, and Arik held it. This time he was right, and they both knew it.

"... thanks." All she said, all she needed to.

"What I'm here for, Ky." Simple statements, what Arik did best at times.

Okay, Kyri thought, back to business. "We're going to need an army to beat Irenicus."

"Nah, not an army. An army would just get in the way."

"We need more than two, ya dummy." Kyri said, dropping into the family slang.

Arik chuckled, his first in a while. "So, mercenaries?"

"Paid with what?"

"Well..." Arik said, gesturing to his sister.

"Not funny brother. I was thinking of the noble sort. The honorable warriors."

"Think you can make an exception for me?"

Kyri gives a little laugh, nothing much. A pity laugh for a pitiful joke. Still, Arik's spirits were lifted all the same. The voice in his head, telling him everything that was wrong, was suddenly much more silent. If his sister, the bossy, straight faced Elven one, could still laugh after everything...

Well, maybe things could work out. Things wouldn't get that much better, not really. The brawl had finally settled down, and Arik and Kryi were still tired, worn from the fighting and the running and everything else.

But for the first time all day, Arik had a little bit of hope. Finally, Arik could look to the future with something other than four corpses in his vision. He knew, nothing really had changed. Good friends were still dead, his body still ached from weeks of torture, and Imoen was still a prisoner. But, then again, things change all the time, don't they...

"So, a cleric, a brawler and a shield-hand?" Kryi said, using the tactical shorthand she'd read about when learning small party combat tactics.

"At least. An archer would be handy."

"Don't see many of them around here."

"They're around, somewhere. You got a plan? Or something?"

"What, you don't know?" At Arik's unamused glare, she went on. "Nothing solid, but I was approached on my way here. Someone by the name of Gaelen Bayle is very interested in helping me out, and knows people who can help me find Imoen. And probably Irenicus."

"How generous of him. Very noble. So, how much will it cost us?"

"Twenty thousand."

Beat. "Be serious."

Kyri sighed. "I am. This contact, Gaelen, is smart, knows things that he shouldn't. I don't think he was lying, and he honestly says I can trust him, something about how he'd be nothing without his word."

"Ah, honor among thieves. But still, twenty thousand? I'll assume we're talking about gold here, and in standard coins."

"It's why I'm here. It's the only option I, we, have. Find some hired hands to work for a share of the gold,"

"Increasing the amount we need to gather." Arik muttered.

"Better that than dead. Besides, we might do better giving them an extra share above the initial twenty thousand. Or we could look for a knight in shining armor."

"That would be me!" said a booming voice.

The voice belonged to someone who clearly did not belong in such a place. His armor, his eyes, even his teeth seemed to gleam. The look of nobility was all about him, from his stance to, well, his gleam. The only things that broke up the look were a small scar on his left cheek and a rather subdued amulet around his neck of an eye set upon a gauntlet.

"Oh, damn it all, a Helmite..."

"I apologize for dropping eaves on your private conversation, as much of a conversation can be private in this hovel-"

"I dunno, I kinda like it here." Arik interrupted, as a table broke from the force of an unlucky thief's body being slammed onto it. "It's got a nice ambiance."

"I was addressing the lady, cur." Turning back to Kyri, and ignoring Arik's muttering about Kyri's supposed lady-ship, the Helmite introduced himself. "My name is Anomen Delryn, and I am indeed a cleric of Helm, however I do also possess great skill with a sword and shield. Tell me, art thou a force of righteousness and order in this wicked world, and doth thou quest follow suit?"

"Why, indeed it does, good sir knight!" Arik replied in a voice so genuine and pure. "Our quest involves the rescue of a damsel in distress, her countenance so fair, a good and noble soul if there ever was one, and the foe we face is an evil wizard beyond redemption, the source of many evil deeds in this cursed world!"

"Arik, I think that's enough," said Kyri, doing her best not to laugh at the scowl on Anomen's face. "To be honest, Anomen, it's mostly what Arik said. Well, maybe not Immy being noble, and really our enemy is the Cowled Wizards, and-"

Arik stood, cutting her off. "Ky, go ahead and catch him up on our life story. I'm heading out to gather some supplies, sell some of these gemstones, the usual."

"Pay for them. I don't want to have to bail you out again."

Arik laughed. "That only happened once!"

Kyri grinned back at him. "Good. Keep it that way. And keep your ears open."

Arik just threw back a half-hearted "Always do," over his shoulder and strolled out of the din of the tavern, wanting to be at least a few block away before his new special friend learned about his chosen profession.

--------------------

Arik's leisurely stroll through the streets of Athkatla had taken him through a few of the more colorful parts of the city, but once he crossed the river, everything changed, like night and day. Instead of beggars and shady merchants looking hopefully at him, there were serious men in heavy, shiny armor gave him suspicious looks.

To be fair, the dark grey cloak and worn leather armor weren't helping him much. Neither was the crossbow. Or the sword. While below the river, it was clear that he was not the only one who'd known combat first hand, but up here it looked like it was all rich nobles and guards who's armor and weapons were more for show than any real use. Arik couldn't see a single dent on them.

It's a wonder he wasn't visibly salivating.

But things had gone well enough. Found some good deals on the gems he'd looted, replaced his worn short sword and crossbow with a very well made sword with a hilt almost like the one he had back in the Gate and a crossbow that could hit a target a hundred feet away. He even found a strange little gnome selling what he called Flashers, crossbow bolts that exploded with a bright flash, which couldn't possibly be legal.

It was a nice day, in the clean part of the city, and he'd even managed to cut a few purse-strings from under the watchful eye of the guards. Perfect time to relax and take in the-

"Burn her! Burn the Drow!"

Right on time. No rest for the wicked or the weary. Arik moved quickly to the source of the voice and found a strangely cliché sight unfolding before him: A scantily clad woman, tied to a stake and surrounded by kindling and no small number of angry people. Only the woman was Drow, a race of elves known for their cruelty and evil and their hatred of all that is good and pure.

Except that Arik knew this one. Viconia DeVir. And while her state of clothing had him slightly distracted, he knew he had to do something. "Tell me, good sirs, what is going on here?"

One of the armed men turned, displaying no insignia or holy symbol. "Merely dispatching this spawn of evil. Do not worry, we have her securely bound and her tainted existence will end quite soon!" he replied, prompting a chorus of cheers from the assembled mass.

"You... Arik? Arik! Please, help me! Talk some sense into these pathetic rivven!" Viconia cried out.

"What? You know this fiend?"

Arik sighed. "Yes, I do think I recognize her," he said, stepping forward towards the stake.

The leader moved his hand to his sword. "Do not interfere! She-"

"Interfere? Why?" Arik scoffed, turning to the speaker, a surprised but amused look on his face. "Me and mine stuck our neck out for her many moons ago, and she fled the second it was in her best interest!"

Viconia stared at Arik, giving him a look that, by all rights, should have left a smoking hole. "What? How dare you! Jaluk, you will-"

"Something tells me you won't have much luck taking revenge on me. Just a hunch." This drew some mocking laughs from the crowd. Good, evil, it doesn't matter: Everyone loves a show. Arik stepped closer to her, kindling snapping under his boots. "For a month we fought together, but the, what's the word V, isn't 'golhyrr' how you people say 'coward'? Well, anyway, she scampers off once she finds out we're going after a true villain."

He walks around her, smiling at her puzzled face. He pauses behind her, and grabs at his sword. "Foolish me, shouldn't have weapons around her. Might ruin the fun, no, if she tries to escape?" With a flourish, Arik draws the sword fast, before anyone can object, and tosses it underhand towards the middle of the mob, the audience fleeing the wayward blade. It clattered loudly to the ground, Arik wincing as the newly bought blade suffers its first ding.

"Anyway, I doubt she ever really cared about the group, cared about anyone but herself at least. Probably doesn't even remember what a 'Reverse Rabbit' is anymore." Viconia still scowls at Arik, who is now staring her right in the face, except the scowl doesn't seem as genuine as it used to be. "Maybe, if you had been a little bit nicer, little 'ssussun', that's still 'bitch', right? Maybe, if you were a little nicer, I'd be helping you out instead of leaving you in their quite capable hands. Maybe."

At that, Arik steps off of the kindling and walks over to retrieve his blade. "Well, I must be going. Burning flesh just makes me gag, you know. So sorry that I can't stay around." And, with that parting shot, Arik just turned his back on the mob and the helpless maiden and walked off along the street, turning into a nearby alley.

The leader turned back to the stake, a triumphant grin on his face. "Well, well, it seems that your vile deeds have caught up to you, Drow! Prepare to face the cleansing flame!"

Viconia sneered at him. "If you think I will beg for my life, you will get no such pleasure from me, you pathetic wael! Shar, hear my cry! Grant your loyal servant your blessing! Free me from these fools!"

And, at that, a miracle happened. A bright flash, intensely bright and deafeningly loud, blinding everyone around the stake. As the leader of the mob stumbled about, rubbing his eyes to get the spots in his vision to fade, he could have though 'Did a god just strike us down?' Or 'Why would a god of darkness use a bright flash of light?', had he known some details about Shar. Or, maybe, 'No more burning clerics alive!'

But when his eyes finally cleared, he didn't hold his thoughts in. "Where the hell did that bitch go?"

--------------------

Five minutes and a half-mile later, Arik and Viconia pulled to a stop in the shadow of a handful of crates, in one of many back alleys just on the good side of the river, Arik's cloak wrapped around her luscious figure.

"So," Arik said between breaths, "how have things been?" At Viconia's annoyed look, he went on. "Good idea, yelling out a prayer to Shar. Glad you got the message."

"Had you spelled it out any more, they would have found a brain and slaughtered you on the spot."

"Hey, I thought I was pretty subtle! 'Golhyrr' means trick, 'ssussun' means a bright light, and a Reverse Rabbit-"

"-is when you cause a distraction and then go hide. I do remember the codes, rivvil."

"Putting the rabbit back in the hat, so to speak." Arik grinned. "Sorry, I've been waiting to say that for a while. Besides, its not like any of them would've known any Drow."

"Fool." Viconia paused, mulling something over in her mind. "They could have seen you slice the rope. And what created that light?"

"Why do you think I threw my sword? Great distraction, a wayward blade. By the by, I just bought this sword, and it's already got a notch in the blade! Oh, and the light was courtesy of a special crossbow bolt I bought today. Completely illegal, I have no doubt." Arik sighed. "You could at least thank me."

She scoffed at that. "I assume you need my assistance?"

"What makes you say that?"

"When don't you?" she said, smirking.

"Funny," said Arik, not laughing. "If we can make it back to the Coronet, I think I can convince Kyri to help you out again. Of course, that'd be the easy part."

"And the hard?"

"Convincing a holier-than-thou Helmite not to kill you on sight."