Imoen had always been told that spying in a wizard's personal spellbook or research material without being invited was an act of gross personal violation; like stealing an unsolicited look into their innermost thoughts. But to be honest she just couldn't help herself! She justified her actions by reminding herself that she was no wizard, and hardly a threat or rival to them.
That was a deception. Doh, Ohgma must have been furious with her right now. Okay, well, she had to at least be honest with herself: Imoen wasn't a wizard; she was a thief... but that didn't mean she was just innocently looking at all the pretty diagrams and flavors of handwriting.
The (super special secret!) truth was that Imoen had stolen, snooped, borrowed, and bugged a primary education in magic out of the Candlekeep monks. In a place of infinite books, there were only so many ways for a young girl to distract herself. Whenever Aegis was being boring (studying maps, practicing combat with the guards, exercising, reading about animals, doing homework for Gorion, etc!), Imoen went out to practice 'borrowing' from her elders. And when the most common things to borrow were made of paper, a young woman was simply bound to start wondering about all those strange words and symbols she couldn't yet understand. And once a young woman began to get curious (especially a pink one!) well it was only natural that she would begin taking steps to sate that curiosity! Secretly.
Imoen could read draconic. Read! Not speak. The syllables rushed past her ears in a blur whenever she heard wizards casting, and she never could manage to pick up a tongue for them. But read, she could definitely read draconic. And as she peered over the spellbooks and notes of three so very different people, she began to get a sensation for how different magic could be from one side of the realms to another. For example, in comparing Dynaheir's Edwin's and Xzar's spellbooks (secretly!), Imoen found three almost unrecognizable different variants of the simple Magic Missile. On further inspection she realized that each wizard's notes shared a common magical core. But each represented that core so differently and approached the spell from such a different lens, that Imoen was staggered by the gulfs between them.
Magic really was a lot more complicated than she'd thought. It all becomes so easy, she thought, once they channel this all into a wand. All of the wands need to be able to do the same thing, and someone like me doesn't have to know how the inside works. We just have to be clever enough to spit out the trigger words...
Each wizard in the party had a very different personal spellbook from each other. Dynaheir's was small; only perhaps three inches across and four inches tall; neatly bound in a very tribal looking pelt and dyed with rich protective pigments in a blotchy rose color, with beads and feathers laced into it. Her writing was neat and block-lettered, with each character representing a tight square. Edwin's, Imoen had only gotten hold of once when rifling through his things. Since then he had kept it carefully secreted under his robes even while sleeping. She could have nicked it again, she thought; but she didn't want to risk him finding out.
Edwin's spellbook was a much larger tome in terms of surface area, but thinner. It was bound with a thin sheet of sturdy mahogany encased in leather and sealed in resin to stave off moisture. His handwriting was looping and elegant. Xzar's spellbook, which Imoen had the freedom to to steal whenever they were on the road and she was on watch duty, was of reasonable dimensions. It was thicker than Edwin's, and bound simply in black leather. It had the thinnest pages, which were by far the most numerous; they were little more than rice paper compared to Dynaheir's vellum and Edwin's sturdy parchment.
In addition, all three wizards carried with them various other forms of parchment on which they collected notes and occasionally engaged in spellcraft. Dynaheir's notes were the easiest to access, because the woman had noticed Imoen's curiosity and welcomed her to look at them whenever there was the time and privacy for her to do so. Imoen hadn't told Dynaheir she could understand draconic, but she reasoned the witch suspected something. Either way, Dynaheir said nothing about it. Her notes were always crisp and carefully organized.
Edwin wrote almost no notes at all, which seemed consistent with his thinner spellbook. Curious to see how he managed to ply spellcraft without burning through paper, Imoen had set to watching him closely over the last few days. When Dynaheir read a scroll from the Sword Coast, she set to making all sorts of notes and diagrams to translate the foreign techniques into ones she could understand. When Edwin was looking at a scroll- for example, the party had found some parchment of interest off the Hobgoblins that seemed to amuse him for awhile- his fingernails moved over the paper in whirls and shapes that were quite different from what was written. It didn't take long for Imoen to realize Edwin didn't need to write work notes; he could visualize everything in his mind with just a little tactile assistance from the feeling of his fingertips moving. It was quite fascinating.
Xzar was different from both wizards in that all of his notes became one with his spellbook. His diagrams were also by far the most intriguing. Using the translucency of his ricepaper pages, he built drawings numerous layers thick, where one could page through and reveal spirals and spirals of information as each new page was turned, all while seeing how that information stacked with previous diagrams. He wrote not only about magic, but also included studies on anatomy, botany, geography, and numerous other topics.
Unfortunately, Xzar's spellbook was also almost impossible for Imoen to decipher. When he wasn't writing in draconic, his notes alternated across many languages, few of which she understood. The necromancer's scrawl was tight, messy, and abbreviated. Almost everything he wrote was in shorthand or even code. But after studying the book for awhile, Imoen realized one thing was ominously clear: Xzar's madness didn't show through it at all, not once, not on any of the many pages she studied. Imoen had expected to see long winding spirals of incoherent word streams; What she found instead were the highly detailed observations of a man who could and would disassemble almost any problem he came across.
Montarson was right; Xzar was terrifying. The idea that so chaotic a person could be responsible for so pedantic a journal sent all of Imoen's sureness concerning the necromancer's relative harmlessness out the window. If he could think in so organized a manner on paper, what else was he capable of? Was he a danger to Aegis? He might have been. Imoen decided she ought to start paying closer attention, lest one day she find that Xzar had disassembled her sister!
They were all incredibly wet; though that meant something different from person to person. The sky had cracked open the evening before, sending thunder and lightning spewing in all directions and unleashing a boundless waterfall of unending storm. The storm had lasted through the morning, and when the party had headed out it was with mixed success.
Aegis and Imoen had been mischievous girls who loved to play in the mud at children, with loving foster fathers to outfit them in all the necessary trappings for such exercise. When both girls had kit up for their journey from Candlekeep, they'd been smart enough to bring cloaks oiled against inclement weather and boots with good soles that came halfway up the shin. With Jaheira present to mother them a little, it only took some small work for each girl to waterproof her outfit. They had little trouble wrapping their boots to the thigh, ensuring their cloaks were properly shedding water, and wrapping extra cloth on their weapons to improve their grip in these adverse conditions. Of course Khalid and Jaheira were also dressed properly.
Minsc and Dynaheir were used to a harsh and windy climate, but a relatively dry one. They were not quite so prepared for Sword Coast weather, but Minsc did not complain and Dynaheir seemed willing to bear the discomfort for the time it would take them to get to the mines. Monatron was a practical man, and he had not traveled halfway across the continent without learning how to take care of himself. Edwin's only limited school was that of Divination, and he had apparently memorized (no long amount of time after leaving Thay) a spell which caused the weather to have no adverse affect on them. He did not offer to cast it on anyone other than himself, and leered smugly at their mundane preparations and mild discomfort as he walked brazenly beside them in little more than his red silk robes. He clearly thought himself incredibly clever.
But that left only one person for Aegis to worry about.
"C-c-cold," the necromancer muttered to himself, clutching his shoulders and rubbing them. Aegis glanced worriedly over him, and then reached over to feel the edge of his cloak. She realized the cotton was had taken on a lot of water and a curse leaked out between her lips.
"Jaheira?" she called ahead. "Keep going, we'll catch up!"
The Druid waved a hand to signal she'd understood, and Aegis grabbed Xzar by the elbow and tugged him off under a sheltering pine tree. Imoen noticed the duo had stopped and turned around to come back for them.
"What's up?" she asked, playfully kicking at a puddle.
"He's not dressed for the weather," Aegis answered, reaching up to unclasp the necromancer's cloak and then picking it up and coiling it up. She wrung it, and water actually poured out.
"Yeesh!" Imoen exclaimed, realizing the extent of the situation. "Well he should be fine when we reach the mines, right?"
"Which are cold, damp, and underground?" Aegis asked rhetorically, flinging the cloak over a low lying branch and then leaning over to feel the necromancer's robes. "The robes had remained mostly dry except for the bottom hem, which was muddy and soaked. "Are you okay, Xzar? You're shaking."
"My feet are cold..." the green wizard admitted.
"Oi! Aegy, he ain't wearing boots."
"I d-don't have a-any with m-me," the necromancer explained defensively, and Imoen was surprised to be addressed clearly and directly by the man.
"Well, we could have just bought you new ones; the general store was right there beside the inn! Aren't you the one sleeping with him, Aeg?" Imoen laughed. "Didn't you notice he wasn't kit right?"
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," Aegis muttered, trying to think of what the best thing to do was. Xzar was wearing cloth slippers. They had a good enough sole for long outdoor walks and left little in the way of a footprint, but they were useless in heavy rain. "I should have noticed and I should have said something."
Xzar made a noise of displeasure. "I am not a ch-child," he told her. "I am not... your... responsibility!" She glanced at him. "It rained all night," he muttered. "I listened while I prepared my spells. I did not think it would last long through morning..."
"I should have been able to let you know it was gonna last. For another day or longer," Aegis sighed. "How big are your feet?" She pat the back of his knee to make him lift one limb up, and then she peeled the soaked slipper off and gave it to him to wring out. "Should work," she thought aloud.
"What should work?" Imoen piped up, and then laughed when Aegis stood up and started pulling off her own boots. "You can't be serious, Aegis!"
"Eh, I'll last longer than him," the ranger responded, hopping slightly to keep her balance. "Besides, I like running barefoot in the mud."
"When there's a fireplace waiting for us at the end!" Imoen disagreed. "Oh fine. You know I watched Edwin do his own laundry yesterday? He did it with magic. Just poof! and it was done. I'll pester him when we reach the mines! I'm sure he'll help if only to get me to stop talking to him."
"Be careful with that man, Imoen," Aegis disagreed with this plan of the thief's. "He's dangerous."
"Aegis, you're standing two feet away from a man who openly introduced himself to us as a necromancer. Do you have any idea how rare that is? Dynaheir's an invoker; Edwin's a conjurer; but nobody waltzes around calling themselves a necromancer!"
The ranger paused in folding up both of her boots and draping them over another branch. She glanced at Xzar and found the man wore a perplexed expression. "What are you doing?" he asked her quietly.
"Getting you dry," Aegis responded. "Strip down and change into your clean robes."
"My cloak is still wet," he disagreed.
"I'll lend you mine," she told him, reaching about his waist to untether his belt. "Help me, would you?"
Xzar hesitantly went through the motions of assisting her, with Imoen protesting this was a silly plan in the background. The pink girl was just about to suggest they go talk to Jaheira when Aegis stooped, grabbed the hem of the necromancer's robed, and simply stood to pull them off straight over his head. "Look away!" the ranger advised.
"My eyes!" Imoen wailed, slapping her hands over her face. Then she peeked out between the fingers because truth be told she wasn't half the prude she'd just pretended to be. She'd also had slim chances to see naked persons of the opposite gender before. "Ye gods, why doesn't he wear underclothing!?" Xzar was incredibly slender. One could count his ribs through his skin, and the bones of his hip stood out in a sharp line. Even at an impressive six feet in height, the wizard probably only weighed as much as short little Imoen.
"Just look away!" Aegis laughed dismissively, and when she saw how badly Xzar was shivering she grabbed his shoulders and chafed them and the skin of his sides warmly. He struggled with his pack as she did so, his tongue poking out between his lips. Then he' d pulled the fresh robes clean, and looped them on over his head. Aegis helped him tug them into place. She caught the tail end of the material before the hem hit the ground and then tied it up in a knot to make sure it wouldn't drag. "Lean on me," she advised, grabbing one of her boots off the branch and patting one of his feet. Xzar did as he was asked, frowning at her.
Aegis helped him work each boot on and then laced them up,and swaddled each leg up to the thigh in the leather wrappings. When this was done she stepped back to examine her handiwork as Xzar replaced his belt. He wrung out his dirty things and then packed them carefully into his bag. "How will this help?" he asked uncertainly, and Imoen wasn't sure how she felt about his lucidity. Was he always this clear as soon as he was away from the rest of the party? Was this the reason Aegis could sleep with him?
When Aegis stepped back up beside the wizard and threw her cloak round his shoulders, Xzar fixed the ranger with a baffled look.
"Better?" Aegis queried.
He looked down and wormed his toes about in her boots. They were still warm from the touch of her flesh. Beside him, she stood barefoot on the ground. He observed the lines of her body at that angle; the swell of her calf muscle, the curve of her knee. Then he looked up at her face. "But you'll be wet," he protested all of this. "And dirty."
"I've been worse," she laughed, picking up his discarded cloak and pulling it round her own shoulders. "Besides, you look very sexy in my boots."
"My ears!" Imoen wailed. "Don't be offendin' none of me other senses now! I need my nose to sniff out treasure!"
Xzar's mouth pressed into a wide line, his eyes closing to amused slits. Aegis eased her hands about the small of his back, tugging him into a hug. He made a sound half protesting, half accepting of the touch. "I'm the ranger;" she told him laughingly; "you're the necromancer. Let me worry about the weather, and you can worry about death."
Xzar stiffened slightly, green eyes widening up at her face. "Worry about Death?" he asked incredulously, and then thought of the Protection From Evil spell he'd again memorized that morning. A baffled expression crossed his face as if he'd walked in on something confusing or revolting and was trying to decide what exactly had gone wrong. He scratched his cheek, slumping a little as if staggered or overwhelmed by something and staring out past her shoulder at nothing. "Worry about Death," he repeated. "Worry about Death..."
"Did you finally break him?" Imoen giggled.
"How can one worry about that which is already dead?" Xzar wondered to himself. "Unless perhaps she means the Mad Prince, in which case I should like very much to do the polar opposite of 'worry'..."
"Oh boy," Imoen laughed, "I'd wondered how long he'd be clear. Well, come on. This plan is stupid, but then we should at least hurry!"
"Let's go," Aegis agreed, smirking at the necromancer. "And don't forget we need to buy you your own boots when this is over," she said, patting Xzar on the back and then heading boldly out into the rain.
Xzar blinked and slowly shuffled out after them. He felt the pattering of water droplets down on the hood of the cloak. He felt the liquid course around him, but the cloak was too well-made and too clever to let the dampness through. His feet were warm in the wrapped leather boots, and he could feel his outer body temperature rise as his core no longer struggled to insulate. He watched Aegis chase after Imoen with a stick in hand, her feet already black with mud. The two were squealing girlishly and it pricked the hairs on the back of his neck.
He thought of his homeland and of the long road ahead until it would be time for him to act. His fingers drifted to the handle of the knife at his belt. But it wasn't really his knife. That weapon had been taken from him long ago, and this one was not blessed. His fingers retracted sharply from the hilt and he found himself gnawing on one knuckle and tugging painfully at his hair.
"Perhaps she means the state," he considered. "Or to worry about the death that must be dealt. But why worry? It is only one death, and then only of a vase to free its water. It will be simple. The trust is already there, and the lies have been absorbed into the truth. Certainly one must be worried about it happening prematurely, but after its done, one can worry about Death all one wishes."
He considered the Protection spell he'd prepared, and wondered whether that meant he was worried about death or a death, or Death or some other 'Death' entirely, and his face bunched up in confusion. He felt the warmth of her life in the boots and the cloak and the touches she'd left on his skin; ghosts both of a newly familiar lover and an older and far more familiar master.
Could Murder smell of chamomile?
The unspoken question staggered him. He scrambled for his spellbook at his side, pulling open the pages and peering within, letting the cloak shield out water as he flipped frantically from diagram to diagram. Then he found what he was looking for, new and fresh with ink from the evening before: twenty new layers of circles and notes and the musings of a long-dead priest. The majority were marked with neat, dismissive 'X's in the top corner, as if the spiraling draconic had emerged unwarranted from the author's hand, with sigils at cross purposes with his intent.
Imoen caught sight of him while playing with Aegis, and her eyes narrowed. Just what was that crazy man up to?
..
When Aegis and Imoen finally rejoined the party, Edwin did a doubletake. Then he turned to see, predictably, that the necromancer had gained a new cloak and a new set of boots.
"A little wet, I see?" the Red Wizard drawled at Aegis, and Jaheira glanced backwards. She glared at what she saw. "Pity your demented charge is so incapable that he cannot even dress himself appropriately."
Aegis laughed. "I'd have done the same for you," she decided, sizing the slender wizard up. "So, thanks for being competent, because I'd only have one pair of boots to split between the both of you."
"Are you masochistic, or do you simply think self-sacrifice makes you cute and noble?" Edwin asked her, voice dry in more ways than one. "Perhaps in his case you simply like to maintain your toys."
Imoen gave a big dramatic sigh. "Edwin, it's like you turn everything nice into something selfish."
"Everything nice is something selfish," Edwin disagreed. "If you do not know that, thief, then you are living in some fantasy world."
"You really drag morale down," the pink archer complained.
"You steal peoples' things," Edwin told her. "Do you think their morale is high when they return home from a hard day of work and find you've lifted their savings? In what amazingly convoluted dimension does your mind exist in where you are somehow better than I? 'Good' is a relative term, and you are still foolish to apply it to yourself. If anything, in your case, it means 'well behaved and malleable.'"
Jaheira muttered inarticulately under her breath and Khalid gently rubbed her shoulder. Imoen frowned; Edwin was imagining a heist more suited to Monatron's tastes than her own, she felt. "I don't hurt no one!" she protested.
"Taking a person's work is hurting them, little fool," the Thayan laughed. "Not that I disagree with your trade. You have the means to take things without consequence in many instances, and so you should do so. Remember, everyone is out for themselves, only. Your sister acts to keep her hold over a relatively inexpensive play thing... And you get baubles to faun over. What's so different about me except that I am honest about what I want?" Imoen stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes. Edwin sneered. "Speaking of which, girl... I know you looked at my spellbook when you were going through my things. And I've seen the way your thieving little eyes follow me when I am reading from it. If you so much as breath too closely to my work again, you won't be breathing for very much longer. I promise you that."
"Hey-!" Imoen frowned.
"Stealing a person's work is hurting them," the Thayan purred viciously. "I guess that would make the retribution a form of self defense?"
Aegis rubbed the bridge of her nose and wondered if she might tell Xzar to shadow Edwin. The Red Wizard didn't seem to perceive her necromancer as a threat, and if there was one thing Xzar could do exceptionally well then it was strangle people whilst they were busy ignoring him. She felt the brush of clothing and looked over as her necromancer came up beside her. He grabbed the edge of his cloak- her cloak- and threw it over her far shoulder to shield them both. To make this work more effectively, he siddled closer to her and put his arm around her back.
"Super special body warmth rescue!" Imoen giggled, realizing what Xzar was doing and coming up to do likewise on Aegis's other side "Don't worry sis! We'll save you!"
"You are all fools," muttered a very unpleasant Red Wizard.
..
Remarkably, the thing that delayed them longest from going into Nashkel mines was that the leader of the guards could not handle the fact that he was talking to a woman who'd waltzed about in the rain with no shoes on. Her sarcastic quip that she was half halfling and that Montaron was her cousin made the halfling crack up with laughter but ended up stalling them for over thirty minutes. ThenEdwin's hands began to glow red and he started not-so-subtly threatening every 'monkey' around him with bodily harm if he did not get into the mine before his protection-from-the-rain spell ran out.
Since he wasn't really inclined to get between the mines and any serious adventurers, the guard had finally yielded and permitted them all inside.
"I can't believe he got that hung up over me not wearing shoes," Aegis muttered in disbelief, looking across the massive stone 'atrium' filled with carts of iron ore as pocketed as swiss cheese.
"I think it was thine little harmless 'lie' that so upset him," Dynaheir decided.
"That wasn't a lie! That wasn't even a mild deception, and I worship Oghma so I should know!" Aegis laughed. "The lord of knowledge has no problem at all with sarcasm! In fact he uses it quite scathingly in a good number of the stories about him. Guards. No sense of humor."
"You worship Oghma?" Garrick piped up curiously. "Well, I mean, I knew you were from Candlekeep but... He's an important god to bards!"
"And to everyone else who's ever touched an tool of craftsmanship or a piece of paper," Edwin muttered. "A deity with little to no direction, to himself or to his worshipers, and who does little to nothing anywhere for any reason, even against his proclaimed 'enemies' or on behalf of his 'allies.'"
"Thanks for getting us inside, Edwin," Imoen giggled. "Could you maybe... cast that spell... you know that one... to fix how wet Aegis's clothing is?"
"Don't thank me, I did it for myself... And no."
"Pah-leeeeeese?" Imoen begged exaggeratedly. "I'll kiss you again!"
"Is that supposed to be a threat or are you actually addled enough to perceive it as some kind of a reward? Do you really think so highly of yourself? (That's pathetically naive). Either way I can assure you it is surely no form of motivation, as I'd put your eyes out with bolts of acid before you could take a single step in my direction. "
"Oh boogers, you're no fun at all," Imoen laughed. Aegis gave her a warning look, signifying how the thief should not push Edwin. Then Immy saw her reach down to her belt and pull free a flask of what was likely whisky. She giggled at the realization that Aegis wasn't in much discomfort.
"Assist her," Jaheira told the wizard as Aegis took a swig of warm liquor. "You are dependent on her to take the brunt of the enemy's focus so that you can spellcast. You have no incentive to want her at anything other than at her best."
"I am dependent on no one," the Thayan told her in a level voice. "Don't try to give me an order again, or you'll realize that the hard way."
"Barefoot spelunking!" Aegis cheered, capping her flask and then bounding inward to cut off party infighting at the roots. "My favorite! Spread out and interview some of the miners everyone, we need at least a guess what's going on down there."
"Did I not just say-" growled the Red Wizard.
"Except Edwin of course! Edwin, mind having a look at the iron?"
Edwin made a sour expression and Imoen giggled at him. "You're never happy with anything, even when things go your way," she laughed, and then bounded off to interview the mining crew. She ended up finding a miner who was willing to sell his boots for a few silver pieces, and so ended the shoe-less escapades of Aegis of Candlekeep.