It wasn't called the 'Jovial Juggler' for nothing.
Atop a table, stood a man wearing a multi-colour onesie festooned with bells. He was balanced on one foot, while the other helped to keep the plethora of items he was juggling airborne. When asked what he could juggle, he replied with anything the size of his arm, up to a width of a foot and under fifteen pounds. His limit, he said as he winked a blue eye, was twelve items, but his record was twenty seven for six seconds. Half of them on fire.
He seemed particularly interested in Imoen, and slipped from table to chair back to table to seek her out and trade stories with her. He was outrageous and cheerful and when he took his break, turned out to be utterly cheeky, as noted by how he bought Imoen an apple cider and then surprised her with a kiss. Of course, he just laughed and pranced away to leave her floundering as Jaheira came over to shepherd Imoen back to their table.
"I'm still worried about Damion. What if Ira's gotten hurt and doesn't make it to Nashkel? What if he gets hurt before they meet up?"
"Did you say Ira~?"
"Shoo, fool. This does not concern you." Jaheira leveled a piercing glare towards the juggler, who had snuck back somehow largely undetected despite the plethora of bells sewn to his outfit.
"Oh, but it does~! Maybe. Short, elf, punchy?"
"You know Ira?" Imoen blinked at the jester, who dipped into a low bow before straightening and balancing his glass of water atop his head.
"We're mutually beneficial acquaintances. I was under the impression she was going to High Hedge, to see Thalantyr the Conjurer, and then she was to meet me here." The juggler stretched, before blinking at the group. "If you need her to go to Nashkel quicker, you should probably go and meet her there and tell her to get going."
"And what of her meeting with you, then?" Jaheira narrowed her eyes, folding her arms and searching his face for anything that might lead to trouble.
"It'll keep. I was just going to pester and tease her anyways." He swiped the water off his head, taking a sip before draping himself over the back of Imoen's chair, looming over her shoulder and offering his drink to her. "Thirsty?"
Ira sat on the steps of High Hedge, elbows on her knees and hands supporting her chin as she contemplated ways to get rich quick. She had never really thought about gold as something she really wanted; It was worth practically nothing beyond something decorative to melt down or make things out of when compared to the more common forms of currency her kind dealt with. She had the option of paying in labour, as the mage's apprentice had apparently vanished and Thalantyr didn't want to bother cleaning up after himself, but she balked at the thought. It had been hard to master her indignation when cleaning had been offered as an alternative.
"I'll have to come back and let you know if I'll have the time to. I'm supposed to meet some people pretty soon." Ira had answered, and politely taken her leave. She pondered over if it was worth it to debase herself like that or not, considering the benefits and the-
Grass was disturbed nearby, and she glanced over before straightening.
"Jaheira? What're you doing here. Hey Khalid, Imoen."
"We must talk. Something has come up."
Ira narrowed her eyes. Imoen was clearly out of breath, while Khalid looked more or less minorly winded. The druid, however, looked fresh.
"... What's wrong, that you three had to bolt out here as fast as the kids legs could carry her?"
"Damion has split from the group with Montaron and Xzar because of a bounty placed on his head. He-"
"-Wants to protect the kid, gotcha. Surprised he parted with you two so quick, but her I can understand. You want me to do what about this, exactly?"
"You… You gotta go help him!" Imoen leaned against the tree, catching her breath still. "What if… What if he gets-"
"Breathe, kid. Look, I dunno where he might be between here and Nashkel. Why don't -you- do something?"
"We promised we would keep back."
"Right." Ira shot Jaheira an exasperated look. "You know how many things could go wrong with that, right? It wouldn't take much for the half-man to come to conclusions about a bounty and, on top of that, Xzar wouldn't be able to lift a finger to stop him if Montaron spite-killed the Kid. And the Kid can't fight his way out of a wet paper bag yet."
"We are well aware. This is why we need you, yes?" The druid folded her arms, narrowing her eyes. "You seem to have no problem with pulling him out of danger, be it by the back of his shirt. Imoen says you already have, in fact."
Ira eyed the pink-clad girl, who smiled sheepishly.
"Was like you didn't even think about it. Ya just yanked and threw before-"
"I was there, kid."
Imoen smiled sheepishly at Ira's wry tone, before rubbing the back of her head.
"Alright, look, help me with this puzzle and I'll keep on the Kid's ass and keep shivs from finding his soft spots, alright? Not that it's any -business- of yours, but Xzar'll turn if Montaron's dealt with. Thing is, can't kill the half-man or we lose Xzar."
"And you want the madman turned because…?" Jaheira lofted an eyebrow, studying Ira curiously and warily. "He is no better morally than the halfling."
"Seem to recall saying something about none've your business, that." Ira idly inspected a fingernail, before flicking imaginary dirt out from under it away into the grass. "It'll be beneficial in the long run, trust me on that. Came here looking to get a wand of polymorph, keyed to something small and cageable, but I can't afford it. Fits with your goodly morals, doesn't it? Getting rid of someone in a way where they don't die. Killing being bad, and all that."
Imoen coloured slightly, even as Jaheira narrowed her eyes.
"Right. Undeserved, that jab. My bad."
"It's… Okay. You don't look like you're having a good day."
Ira let out a brief bark of a laugh, shaking her head.
"I was chased around by flesh golems that could -climb- for most've the day. Not a good day, yeah, you could say that. He's got them standing down for the moment, though."
"If we arrange for payment of this wand, then, you would leave immediately?"
"Jaheira, I'd leave immediately and run, if your Khalid gave his word. Of you all, I trust his sense've right and wrong more than either've yours. One of you is naive, the other agreed to let a seventeen year old with little to no combat training run around with two assholes, one of which has a tendency to stab things that irk him."
Khalid blinked, glancing over from where he had been keeping an eye on the surrounding area and otherwise keeping out of the conversation.
"Ja-Ja-Jaheira?"
The druid remained silent for a moment before looking over to her husband and nodding.
"For the group."
Damion pressed back against the rock, panting and trying not to think about the arrow that was in his leg. Xzar was further back, muttering under his breath in a harsh-sounding language as he tore the hem of his robes into strips and then turned towards Damion to start binding around the arrow wound. Montaron was nowhere to be found, though from the sounds of the hobgoblins they were narrowing down where the halfling had disappeared to. Shouts of alarm went up to the west, and he figured that whatever Montaron had been planning, he hoped it had worked out for him.
The shouting continued, and as Xzar hauled the arrow out of his leg, he almost collapsed before the potion the necromancer had dumped over the wound took the edge off the pain. Jerking at a the shadow that loomed over them, Damion brought his broken short sword to bear only to realize the hobgoblin was running past, looking panicked before a sword went spiraling through the air and slammed on an angle into its back and laying the hobgoblin low. The screams had mostly trailed off, and the necromancer pressed a hand against Damion's chest to keep him pressed against the rock while he slipped out to the side. Still for a long moment, Xzar surveyed the scene before waving Damion out from the cover of the rocks.
Ira lay stretched out in the middle of the clearing by the hobgoblin's fire, chest heaving as she sucked in great gasps of air, causing the two arrows that protruded from her to shift and quiver. Four hobgoblins were scattered about the camp, a fifth partially sticking out of a bush where it appeared to have fallen forward out of cover.
"Ira!"
Damion hurried forward, dropping the broken sword and rooting through a pouch to dig out another potion, dumping it into her mouth and blinking as she sputtered and coughed, blinking peering groggily up to the human.
"Damn. Sup."
"How did you find us?"
Ira blinked owlishly, before peering at the arrow lodged in her side.
"... Ow. Road. Time. -Math-."
"You… Came back for us?"
Her brow furrowed and she lifted her gaze up towards Damion.
"... Yes? Shoo, I gotta sit up and dig this pointy thing out've my chest."
Damion blinked, before slinking back slightly, frowning as she dug a potion out of a pocket and tore the offending arrow out. Grunting, she eyed the second one before pulling it out as well.
"Damion? Word t'th'wise. Don' ever do that."
"Do what?"
"Pull arrows out've you like that. Is bad. Makes worse." Wobbling as she sat up, she drank half the potion, and poured the rest in equal measures over the two puncture wounds.
"Wh-? Why would you do it then!?"
"'Cause dumb."
She grimaced, before tearing off a leg of her cloth pants and starting to rip it into strips, binding the result around her torso.
"Alright, Kid, Xzar. I'm assuming the halfling's around here somewhere. I'm also assuming there's still a time limit in effect. Right, Madman?"
Xzar scowled at her, but nodded and opened his mouth before being cut off by Ira.
"Not pertinent right now, moving on. Means there's no option of going back, so we've got two choices. Stick to the bandit-watched road or see how long Xzar can run for and how quiet you can move, Kid. Your call. One involves probably dying and the other doesn't."
"But the roads are safer-" Xzar giggled, interrupting Damion as he reached out to poke the dark haired human's nose.
"Says the guy who apparently walked into a hobgoblin camp on the same damned road~."
Damion flinched, before hunching and looking away.
"Exactly. Now, I ran here using oils've speed. My limbs feel like lead, and I'm not sure how well I can move in general. Best bet's to find somewhere a little further away from the camp after we loot the -shit- out of it, and then call it a night. Because it almost is, anyways. Any complaints?"
She peered tiredly between the two, and then looked over to Montaron as the halfling scowled his way out of the bush.
"Didn't think so. Help me up then, Kid."
A day late and a dollar short, but I spent it pretending I could art instead of pretending I could write. Did you guys know that the person who got thrown off the roof was also a Bhaalspawn?
Nimloth! Your reviews always cheer me up! You are right in that Haer'dalis is one of my favourite characters, but also thank you for reminding me that I hadn't changed that picture in... Probably a good four, maybe five years. Damion will mature quickly as the group progresses, and hopefully by the time the group reaches the mines -maybe- won't feel like puking after shooting people. Less than two weeks ago after all he was tucked safely in Candlekeep with a book, so it'll take him some time to adapt. Insofar as Edwina- erm, Edwin, joining the group it's quite possible.
Winding Warpath, you're actually the closest anyone's been to guessing what Ira is, and you're pretty much on the money. What type, though, I'm not sure if I've put enough hints in to give anyone a solid idea yet. I was going to put some hints into this chapter, but decided against it. Instead, may I interest you in a low-health Ira?
Xzar is always fun to write for, and Montaron being competent is something I find usually overlooked. He gets portrayed as an butthole fighter who can pick locks and takes contracts, and less the assassin I've a tendency to perceive him as.
I appreciate the views and the time people take to review my story, and hope that whatever I write doesn't turn too many people off the fic.
-KD
