So...this chapter and the next were originally supposed to be one chapter, but it just got too long. Therefore: here is the first installment! :D
With thanks to those who have been reading and reviewing. I really appreciate your comments!
Chapter 24: When the Good Deceive...
"You're…you're sure this is necessary?" Aerie asked, her voice even higher and more nervous than usual.
"Yes," Jaheira promised, nodding stiffly.
There were few times in her life when the druid had made a decision on impulse or without certainty. And now, watching the avariel setting out the spell components they had collected the previous day across the kitchen table, a metal dish standing in for a scrying bowl, Jaheira was as certain as she had ever been about anything.
Elatharia had not always been this wayward; she had struggled with the discovery that she was a child of Bhaal, and it seemed that something in her blood called to the wrongness of her more recent behaviour in Athkatla. She had been particularly difficult since Sarevok died, but problems had been stirring within her since the day she permitted Edwin to join their group in Nashkel, against Dynaheir's advice.
"Alright," Aerie nodded after a few more uncertain moments, settling her hands to either side of the dish and closing her eyes to gather her thoughts. She hardly looked like an imposing wizard, wearing a nightdress and dressing gown with her thick blonde hair pulled back behind her head. She looked young.
Jaheira felt a lot more prepared for this. She rose before the sun often anyway, seeking solace with the chorus of awakening birds. They had chosen to do this rather clandestine series of Divination spells so early in the morning because Jaheira would prefer not to alert the Shadow Thieves to their true intent. There was no way of being sure that they were not under some kind of surveillance all the same, so they were conversing resolutely in their rather divergent dialects of elvish.
The blonde hairs that Aerie dropped now into the basin held a rather distinctive golden sheen. They flared brighter before catching fire in the water when the avariel began to chant, and Jaheira watched from where she stood opposite Aerie's seat. There was some satisfaction to be found in persuading the avariel that their 'leader' was most definitely nefarious. It was a shame that they had to keep her with them, because her Bhaalspawn influence could not have been good for Imoen, but the latter would be unhappy to learn that Elatharia had been left behind if Jaheira arrived without her.
"How long will this take?" the druid asked once Aerie's spellwords had been spoken, the water in the bowl taking on a faint blue luminescence. The avariel looked up at her slowly, as if struggling through the fog of sleep.
"Not long."
"And if we find nothing now?"
"Then…I'll at least know it works, and it won't take as long next time," Aerie responded, her faint frown proving that she was less than comfortable with this kind of clandestine activity.
Jaheira just nodded, and waited to be proven right.
Haer'Dalis had only been gone moments, on the quest for their breakfasts from a nearby stall. He returned, however, with Korgan fuming at his back. Even without his armour, the dwarf seemed dangerous. The tiefling looked faintly amused, but he moved well away from the library table as soon as he entered with Korgan in tow.
"I'm here fer me red dragon scale, spellslingers," the dwarf intoned, "And don't ye doubt that I'll be ready wi' me axe if ye dinnae give me what I'm due."
Elatharia found herself grimly amused, and turned to see Edwin attempting to rearrange his outraged expression into one of haughty control. He failed, but he still steepled his fingers before him on the table and leaned towards the dwarf with a sneer.
"You failed on nearly every count during our jaunt through the crypts, dwarf," the Red Wizard told him, and Korgan gave an angry grunt, pulling his axe from his back, "What right do you have to ask for payment when your job was so poorly done?"
Elatharia wished Viconia had been up, because the drow would have loved to see this confrontation.
Edwin stood slowly, pushing himself back from the table and attempting to look menacing. Korgan's nostrils flared and he hefted his axe. Only the table stood between the Red Wizard and that gleaming blade. There was no certainty of whether he would manage to cast in the time that it would take the dwarf to spring that distance.
Elatharia kept her seat, looking up at the Red Wizard and back across the book-cluttered table to Korgan. Haer'Dalis lingered at the far end, arms folded and dark eyes intent upon the scene.
"I'm not one fer jokin' when it comes to me pay," Korgan warned, brows so low that Elatharia could barely make out the twinkle of his eyes.
"And I am not happy giving over my hard won possessions to fools who would wear them into battle to become broken and bloodied when they inevitably fail! (Why did she have to make this bargain with him? Why?!)" Edwin made as if to back up, almost tripped on the steps up to the bedroom alcove which served as Elatharia's chambers, and righted himself with a flush of what might have been embarrassment rather than rage.
Korgan barked a laugh.
"Oh, ye'll give me that pay, wizard," he promised in a low growl, "Just decide whether or not ye'd like to lose a limb or two first."
"You did promise, Edwin," Elatharia reminded the Red Wizard.
Edwin was still considering ascending those steps backwards, his hands balled at his sides and his frame trembling as if with the effort of relinquishing something so precious to him. He looked to her as if she had betrayed him in the most terrible way.
"How can you side with an axe-swinging beast? Surely you believe that such treasures as dragon scales would be better kept for magical research?" Edwin exclaimed, "(Although knowing her, Transmuter that she is, she may just chose to turn it into a pretty bouquet tied neatly with a ribbon, useless and pointless…ugh!)"
"I have heard tales of your mistakes and failures, and seen the outcomes for myself," Haer'Dalis offered, throwing Elatharia a wink when she looked over at him, "Some might argue that you are not fit to keep such precious items. At least good Korgan there will take it and use it for a purpose more reliable and more akin to its natural…use."
"Your words are worth nothing, bard!" Edwin spat, even as his expression twitched with the remembered shame of being caught out by his fellow Thayvians. Elatharia covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile as he looked towards Korgan's glowering visage, warring with himself for a few more moments before straightening up and glaring at all of them, "But I am not a man who fails to keep his word. I promised the (idiotic, barbarian, slovenly) dwarf the dragon scale, and thus I will give it to him as his agreed payment. (No matter how little he deserves it, for I am a generous and magnanimous leader)."
Edwin nodded to Korgan, a gesture which the dwarf seemed to understand as a cue to follow the Red Wizard from the room. Not for the first time, Elatharia wondered where the Conjurer kept his most treasured items. Once they had gone, Haer'Dalis approached Elatharia, perching himself on the edge of the table by her elbow. When she looked up at him curiously, he smiled.
"What next, my Raven? I must admit to being a little disappointed that you have not included me in any of your clandestine ventures," he raised his eyebrows expectantly.
Elatharia sat back in order to see him properly, and when he reached out to her face she caught his wrist sharply. There was no threat in his manner, and no hint of the rather overt flirtatiousness which he used with Aerie and Viconia.
"Your mask," he told her, his tone an inquiry, "I would converse with you whilst I can see your face, if I may."
She did not refuse him, so he hooked a thumb under the fabric and pushed it over the top of her head. When she opened her eyes, patting at her hair but not really bothering to do anything to tidy it, she saw that Haer'Dalis was inspecting the mask, turning it over in his hands.
"I used to wear one which had been enchanted," she offered without thinking, "Viconia tells me that I should do the same with this one, since I insist on wearing it."
"Viconia is very wise," Haer'Dalis nodded, his voice a thoughtful murmur as he thought of the drow, "Perhaps you should find someone who can do it for you, while the War Dog has his armour made. Unless your own wizarding skill tends in that direction of talent?"
"Enchantment never has been my forte," Elatharia sighed, taking the mask back from him but acceding his words, "I think I will find someone to do that. There ought to be someone in the Adventurers' Mart who can do that sort of thing."
"Indeed," his black eyes searched her face for a moment, and his brows drew together as if something saddened him, "Tis a great shame that you wear a mask, my Raven. You are not alone amongst our flock in bearing markings upon your face. Myself, and the Mourning Dove," he gestured to the black lines that curved over his chin, and it was true that a few delicate blue lines curved over Aerie's cheeks, "The Ptarmigan has a scar upon her face which she does not hide, though I think her hard visage is more offensive than any birthmarks." By which he referred to Jaheira.
Elatharia sighed.
"Those who see my markings know that they are neither simple birthmarks nor scars. You are a tiefling, Aerie an avariel and Jaheira a warrior. There is no obvious explanation for how I look, except to assume that my heritage is far from the norm and far from trustworthy. As it turns out, it's not."
"I think they are quite fascinating," Haer'Dalis disagreed, and she flinched away from him when his thumb ghosted over the pattern beneath one eye, "We are not all beautiful. And those who are often rue it. Nor are we all fascinating, as you are, and those who are can only profit."
"Try telling that to some of the monks at Candlekeep," Elatharia shook her head, uncomfortable with this conversation, "But it doesn't matter. I don't need pity, or sympathy."
Haer'Dalis's eyebrows rose as if her words entertained him.
"I believe I understand why you and the Blackbird have endured each other so long, my Raven," he told her with mock-seriousness, "You are, in many ways, much alike. She once said very similar words to me, and I will tell you what I told her: I do not offer pity or sympathy. Just understanding. And perhaps a desire to see you fully fledged and free from your cage." He took the mask from her, and folded it in half laterally, "Won't you start to break free, just a little? Will you not show more of your face at least? I find myself bewitched by your reproachful green eyes."
Elatharia snorted, standing and starting to pile up some of the books on the table just to put a little distance between them. Eyeing the folded mask in his hands, she found that she wanted to agree with him. Perhaps it was weak of her to hide so much behind that mask. Though she did not see how she could ever walk the streets as an equal to the rest of humanity when her markings were visible.
"Tell me you aren't seeking to practice your flirtations with me. I'm sure you have far more beautiful prey to catch."
"Flirtations? Beauty? Prey?" Haer'Dalis put a hand over his heart as if wounded, but his eyes were laughing, "I know when I am not wanted, my Raven. Else I might have pursued you, too."
"Like you pursued Aerie and almost drove Anomen to murder?" Murder, murder and death.
"Murder is a dramatic word for it," the tiefling denied a little more seriously, "I promised him a duel if she could not choose. As it happened, she chose him in her heart some time ago."
"I heard he took a swing at you before she even arrived."
"True," Haer'Dalis smiled genuinely then, eyes flashing, "'Twould have been a scene of merry chaos, the Peacock stumbling after me like a stranded seal."
"Have you ever seen a seal?" Elatharia pointed out doubtfully.
"Not of this world," Haer'Dalis admitted.
"Is that the only reason why you do anything? For the chaos? Because it amuses you?"
"Mostly," he shrugged, suddenly less forthcoming. Elatharia watched him for a curious moment, and then sighed wearily.
"Alright," she told him, "I'm going to be friendly about this because I don't want our group tearing itself apart. It's just…I've never known Viconia to give much away, emotionally especially. She's particularly unforthcoming to males. If you're looking to bed her then it's going to be more successful for you if you go for a greater combination of eagerness and deference."
"You think I am so shallow?" he sounded faintly hurt, and she could not tell if he was serious.
"I don't know," the Transmuter shrugged, "She's my ally, and I'll take her side if she takes a dislike to you. Unless you have a spectacularly useful contribution to make to getting to Imoen faster."
"You are strangely loyal for such a wounded creature," the tiefling noted softly, catching her wrist when she started to move away fully, turning it over to contemplate the scars there, "I see your stubbornness, and you play a good act of being heartless. Oft times I know it is no act. But love is something that drives you to your sister, and that I find curious."
Elatharia was eyeing him distrustfully and about to respond when Edwin and Korgan returned, the dwarf carrying the heavy, folded red mass of dragon scales across his shoulders triumphantly. The Red Wizard paused briefly when he saw Haer'Dalis leaning towards the Transmuter, and his expression darkened. Elatharia did not see the tiefling's smirk before she turned away.
Aerie sat back from the bowl, blinking to clear the haziness that breaking with the spell induced.
"Well?" Jaheira sounded typically stern, with just an added hint of extra tension. She was still standing at the other side of the table, arms folded.
"Th-there's not much to go on. They mentioned something about 'clandestine ventures', but…" Aerie blushed, and Jaheira sighed impatiently, "Mostly they were just talking about themselves. Nothing too…too bad. Not really. I mean…it was Haer'Dalis who mentioned something about their plans being 'clandestine'. Can't it just be…that they're planning a birthday party or something?" she raised her eyebrows expectantly, and Jaheira gaped at her momentarily.
"No," the druid told her with firm derision, "No, that is not so. We need to watch them further, but we should relocate to my room before Minsc returns or Anomen rises."
Aerie tugged at her braids unhappily, less than enamoured by this.
"I…I really don't like all this deception. I wish we could just ask them. How do you know it's something so terrible?"
"I don't know, but she is living in quarters with Viconia and the Red Wizard. Not to mention the tiefling whom you do in your heart still wish to defend. I do not need to be a wise gambler to know that something is definitely terribly wrong there."
Once at the Adventurers' Mart, having acquired a hungry Viconia on the way out of the Sphere, Korgan and his red dragon scale had been redirected to a dwarf named Cromwell, whose shop stood in the docks – not far from Yoshimo's Guild House. Elated at the promise that he would indeed be getting his armour soon, Korgan had stomped off in that direction, but the others had stayed at the Adventurers' Mart for a while longer. Elatharia seemed to have taken Haer'Dalis's advice to heart and was discussing the enchantments she intended to add to her new mask with an unofficial stall owner in the complex. It sounded like the new item would use up the stores of money she had kept for herself, and Haer'Dalis had offered some of his share to help. He had little interest in Prime money. He did not intend to linger that long. She had agreed without much argument, though her green eyes had watched him with a look that must have been distrustful under that half-mask.
All the same, it sounded like they would need to stop off at Jan's rather…altered…residence for her share in his business and to Yoshimo's Guild House for some of the money he had made there. Otherwise Elatharia would have no money at all and she seemed unhappy enough to be Bodhi's mindless assassin without having to beg for coppers from Jaheira.
As the discussion on magic and the creation of this new mask continued, Haer'Dalis removed himself from the clamorous bustle of the Adventurers' Mart and stepped out into the slightly more diluted madness of Waukeen's Promenade. At a stall just outside the door he bought a mug of Amnish coffee, newly imported from Maztica, and settled himself down upon the wall of this tier of the mighty Promenade to enjoy the view.
The wind was a little cooler than it had been when they sojourned at the De'Arnise Hold. The clouds had started to roll in from the north, fluffy and white with only the occasional hint of grey or bruise-blue to hint at rainfall. To look at the citizens of this place one would think that winter had come, however. Before, the ladies had been ambling about in their best, brightest colours, fanning themselves and – where youth was brash and desperate – fairly swooning into the arms of guardsmen and well-groomed young lords. Also before, when the skies had been bright blue and the sun a wheel of fire high in the sky (which it still was, though a little better covered), those lords had worn bright doublets daringly unbuttoned low on their stomachs to reveal thin white shirts and little else.
Now, ladies and lords, young and old, street sellers and town criers, craftsmen, servants, couriers, travellers…all of them but for the very poorest swaddled themselves in cloaks. The throngs lining up at the stalls, haggling for food and spices or cloth and books, waiting their turn at the circus or heading off on some errand or meeting of great importance, all of them wore shades of dark. Grey, black, deep red, midnight blue, forest green. Not many hints of brightness anymore. They seemed determined to believe that it was cold, not just a little less warm.
Haer'Dalis had to admit that this was hardly his area of expertise; there he sat, kicking his heels against the dusty orange bricks of the wall, dressed in thin trousers and an open short-sleeved doublet over a white shirt whose expansive sleeves more than made up for the doublet's lack. He needed no cloak, and indeed hardly felt the change in temperature. It would take far greater extremes of hot and cold to unsettle him. But then again, the Blood Wars could do that to a person – even if that person were not a tiefling with the blood of a marilith general in his veins.
Sighing to himself, Haer'Dalis sipped at his coffee curiously and decided that he preferred it greatly to the tea which Edwin and Elatharia drank in such vast teapots-full. He sipped again, and watched the view. Waiting, in truth.
Waukeen's Promenade was, in spite of its loud and confusing bustle and clutter, a very beautiful masterpiece. There were few places like it, and something about its sweeping curve called to Haer'Dalis's sense of beauty. Shaped like a traditional, tiered theatre, where its shops lined the rows in several great red-brick arcs – upon the wall of one such he sat – they rose up over the 'orchestra', that open market floor tiled with soft pink granite. The tents of the circus punctuated the sea of stalls and milling people who half-obscured that lovely ground, and beyond that, upon the 'stage' stood the mighty Aqueduct of Athkatla, its huge arches striding across the rose floor on its mission to supply the city with water. It stood at least half as high again as the highest tier of the menagerie of shops, a towering feat of human engineering made of pale stone and still graven with intricate patterns in spite of its functionality. Beyond that stood the walls of the district, and the rest of Athkatla.
"And just what are you plotting now, tiefling?"
Edwin's voice had been expected, its heavily accented drawl sounding from fairly close behind Haer'Dalis's shoulder. The tiefling twisted about upon his stretch of wall, raising his cup of coffee in greeting to the glaring Red Wizard – who dressed in only subtle red and preferred black in this arcane-phobic city.
"Only plans to one day stage a huge play upon this might theatre, my Sparrowhawk," Haer'Dalis promised, gesturing out at Waukeen's Promenade, "Tis a waste to peddle such transient wares upon such a beautiful structure."
"Then you have no concept of how important wealth and possessions are in the civilised world. There is no better use for such an extravagant show of power than to use it to display one's success and good standing. (Unless of course it can be taken and used to display real, arcane strength.)"
Edwin's transformation and subsequent return to his original male form had somehow left him bereft of his beard. He seemed more disdainful than ever without it, where one could make out his oft smug and superior expressions more clearly. Haer'Dalis watched him until he sneered and shifted, posture straining to one of greater hauteur, hands clasped behind his back.
"I wonder, my Sparrowhawk – when your beard vanished – along with your…masculine traits – did the beads you had so carefully woven into it scatter at your feet? Or did they simple disappear? I simply must know, in order to better write the farce which I will inevitably dedicate in your honour."
Haer'Dalis spoke in a manner which probably seemed foolish and inflammatory to the Red Wizard – who muttered something hateful, his eyes taking on an angry flare that hinted at danger – but they were in fact just inflammatory. The tiefling did enjoy goading those who were easily goaded. There was no one easier to goad than this bristling Conjurer.
"I did not come out here to be mocked by you, tiefling. If I were you I would recall that this wizard," he gestured to himself proudly, "Does hold a licence. I could blow you apart with a flick of my wrist. (And how satisfying that would be. Hmmm…)"
Haer'Dalis laughed, swinging his legs around on the wall to face the Red Wizard fully.
"Ah, my Sparrowhawk. Perhaps I ought to term you 'my Robin' for you are full of fearsome bluster, and not always so well placed to deal the slaughter you promise," he held his smile while Edwin opened his mouth to spit some more vitriol, "I may not be a native of this Plane, let alone this fascinatingly maddening city. But as I understand it, you acquired your licence from the Shadow Thieves."
The silent explanation was enough. Bodhi had seen Edwin. He was officially a part of Elatharia's betrayal of the Shadow Thieves, along with Viconia and Yoshimo, in a way that Haer'Dalis was not. The tiefling held his smile while the Red Wizard huffed, folding his arms across his chest now. Defensive. Not offensive. Haer'Dalis took it as a victory, and held his smile.
"Your limp threats mean nothing to me," the Conjurer denied stiffly, refusing to move out of the way for a pair of old women and momentarily causing a hold up in the path behind him where the patrons of the Adventurers' Mart filtered in and out of the huge shop, "I did not come out here for those, either."
Haer'Dalis noted that Edwin did not wear a cloak, just like himself. That seemed a little peculiar, given that the Red Wizard heralded from desert-hot Thay. Even if he was wearing that usual long black Archmagi jacket with its golden brocade and gleaming golden buttons. His shirt was at least red – a very dark shade – but his trousers and polished boots were black.
"Oh, do tell this humble Sparrow why it was that you abandoned the Blackbird and the Raven to the wiles of Ribald Barterman in favour of…me." His twin blades, Chaos and Entropy, were close against his deceptively relaxed wrists. He wondered who might be the quicker; he with his blades, or the wizard with his spells. Then he picked up his cup from where he had rested it on the wall beside him, and took another sip.
"I have seen your cunning at work for tendays, slithering demon thing," Edwin promised darkly, pouring the full weight of his accent into the words, "And you should know that you will not succeed."
"Succeed in what, pray tell?"
"Your…your…" Edwin's words caught in his throat for a moment, his face flushing with frustration, and then he threw up his hands, "Your attempts to seduce those around you into following your whims! I saw you this morning, and you should know that I will be ready for your insidious workings against my own designs!"
"I was merely persuading the Raven to show a little more of her face," Haer'Dalis paused, perhaps enjoying this a little more than he should – not that he had ever put much stock in duty and expectation, "Tis an interesting face. And it seems that she has agreed with me, for that is her current goal. I have noticed your own disapprovals have not been so successful."
The Red Wizard's fists clenched at his sides, and he seemed caught in that same impotent rage which had overcome him when faced with Korgan earlier.
"I have already gained a level of influence with the Bhaalspawn of which you will never achieve. It is only by my own superior…control and personal…virtue that I have not entirely sought to place her fully under my spell," the Conjurer disagreed in a vehement hiss, "Should…should I so wish it I would leave her gasping under my erotic onslaught nightly, tiefling! Your feeble attempts at seduction and manipulation are nothing compared to the skills of a Red Wizard of Thay!"
Haer'Dalis almost choked on his coffee. He barely managed to set the cup down again without spilling it all over the sidewalk and the wizard's boots, so much did he laugh. Edwin was still fuming, looking fairly proud of his comments. When the tiefling continued to laugh, the Conjurer watched him with annoyed confusion.
"Oh, my Sparrowhawk," Haer'Dalis coughed out, "I find myself ill equipped to answer your ferocious words but to suggest that I recognise your untruths and know your pain," another fit of laughter, wherein Edwin's expression cleared a little as if he might be starting to understand. It looked like angry embarrassment was fast replacing angry bluster, "I have no interest in your Raven. But sometimes a little acting is needed to bring out the jealousies we hold ready in ourselves."
And the bard wondered what kind of realisations came with such uncommonly brazen words as Edwin's.
"I…I will not be deceived by your idiotic games, tiefling!" the Red Wizard spat at last, flushing more and backing up – almost colliding with the same pair of old women as before, this time on their return journey ,"I will not. I am a Red Wizard of Thay, and your feeble attempts to derail my better standing will fail. (And if not then a fireball would do nicely.)"
Muttering to himself, Edwin departed. Haer'Dalis sighed and shook his head. It seemed that selfish paranoia would win out here, not jealousy of a more interesting sort. Well, the bard had tried. Perhaps the chant would change in this regard. Eventually.
As she slipped off the old mask and tied on the new one, Elatharia's grin widened. Immediately the darker parts of the room brightened, and the woman who had enchanted this band of velvet cloth – which now covered only the markings beneath her eyes – had promised that the item was now imbued with Darkvision, Mirrored Eyes and an augmentation of True Seeing which could be awoken with a command word.
Once she had handed over the last of the money, pleased with her choice – even if she had needed to borrow from Haer'Dalis – Elatharia felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to look at Viconia. Holding up a hand for the drow to wait, she spoke the command word…and instantly she could see past the Transmutation veiling the priestess. A quick inspection of the rest of the room showed that the Adventurers' Mart chose to hide its illegal spellcasters and magical components in plain sight.
"It will be a blessing to have the new enchantments, khal'abbil – and I am surprised to say that I am glad you listened to the tiefling. It was wise of him to suggest that you do this. Although…it may prove more difficult to keep your secrets without your old mask. You have always been remarkably easy to read."
"Easy to read?" Elatharia frowned automatically, and then winced when Viconia smirked at her. With this new strip of velvet just covering her markings, her expression was clear to the world.
"Just a fair warning, khal'abbil," Viconia promised as they turned about for the door. The drow paused, frowning, "I do believe we have lost our familiars."
"Familiars?" Elatharia could not avoid her incredulous tone, though the comment scratched at a memory that she had long since compartmentalised. A flutter of wings, the shine of iridescent scales. A puff of glitterdust. The screaming pain of a bond forever severed. She gritted her teeth, and held onto the present. "Viconia, did you just make a joke that is based on arcane knowledge?"
"How better would you explain the endless shadowing of the tiefling and the Red Wizard? As pets? The former would have to be kept on a permanent leash, the latter would likely have been put down long ago."
Elatharia laughed loudly at the thought, startling a pair of old ladies who were just moving past them towards the enchanter's stall in the vast vaulted hall that was the Adventurers' Mart. There was so much noise, so many smells and sights, so much space in here, and yet from the outside this place looked no different from anywhere else in Waukeen's Promenade; just a series of unmarked doors in the second tier of the red-brick shop complex surrounding the marketplace.
"I get the feeling you'd probably prefer Haer'Dalis to be on a permanent leash," the Transmuter quipped, and Viconia – true drow that she was – did not even raise an eyebrow at the thought.
They passed a stall piled high with scrolls, and there Elatharia's eyes alighted on Edwin. He was frowning, elbowing away another poorly disguised wizard as he flicked through a few of the items on show. The shop keeper was watching intently, but the Red Wizard seemed wise to the ruse. If he picked one up, even for a moment, he would have to pay for it. It had happened to him before, and he hated being embarrassed.
"Ah, and there is your faithful hound," Viconia's tone dripped with sarcasm, and Elatharia elbowed her in the mithral-clad ribs all the same.
"Edwin? Edwin!" Elatharia had to lean over the stall, rattling the piles of scroll impressively, before the Red Wizard in question looked up at her, "Coming? Staying? Transmuting yourself into something new today?"
"Staying," he fairly snarled, waving her away even as his eyes lingered in poorly disguised surprise, taking in her change in appearance. When she frowned fearsomely at his tone, he seemed momentarily taken aback. Perhaps Viconia had been right about the mask. "I am not your mindless lackey, to follow you at every moment of the day. Begone, and come back when you have something interesting to say to me."
Her good mood spoiled, Elatharia stood up straight and stared him down while Viconia pushed past a few patrons to reach her side.
"Remember I'm the one with the right to be angry with you, Red Wizard," she told him, "And that you still have my Traveller's Robe. I'd like it back."
"Fine, fine," he waved her away, finally looking back down at his scrolls, "Just stop pestering me!"
When Edwin was in a mood like that there really was no good reason to counter his demand, and Elatharia moved on for the exit, sharing a confused look with Viconia. She would have expected him to be pleased about his return to masculinity, but instead he just seemed…angry. At least since Korgan had demanded the red dragon skin from him.
As the pair reached one of the exits, squeezing past a band of young adventurers ogling shining sets of armour that they would never be able to afford, they were accosted by the cheerful tones of Haer'Dalis.
"My Raven! My Blackbird! I have discovered the most wonderful thing on this Plane!"
They cast about for a moment while their eyes adjusted to the comparatively bright light of midday – in spite of the clouds – and it was Elatharia who spotted the tiefling's blue-haired visage. He was leaning against a wooden support for the shop's awning, the jewelled pommels of his blades shining at his hips and his doublet undone to show off a very nonchalant shirt-and-trousers style. Unlike nearly everyone else in sight – including Elatharia and Viconia – he wore no cloak and seemed altogether unfazed by the light drizzle that had started on the street beyond. Grinning at them, he approached, holding out two clay mugs – one for each of them.
"Here, I bought some for each of you. I simply could not live on without knowing that you had tried it," he winked at Elatharia conspiratorially while Viconia peered over the rim of her cup, still not touching it, "Tis far better than the tea you drink day and night, my Raven."
"Jaluk, you do not expect me to drink something which you proffer before me without a clear source and without good reason, do you?" Viconia sounded long-suffering. And perhaps just a little playful.
Stepping back to see what happened next, Elatharia took her cup from Haer'Dalis as he looked to the drow. He was smiling at Viconia in a knowing, wicked kind of way that might have made a less determined quarry of his more than willing to take what he offered.
"My Blackbird," he admonished without any genuine feeling of annoyance, taking her wrist and placing her limp hand upon the cup before covering it with his own. His eyes were dancing with mirth as he leaned closer, and Viconia's moon elf visage did register a blush at that. She leaned back a little, as if not sure what to expect, "Dost thou not recall our first conversation, over wine outside the Five Flagons Inn? I have heard it is customary to drink from the cup one offers to a drow. And you ought to know by now that I have no good reason to poison you."
Viconia attempted to frown at him, but her eyes were very intent on him as he took a sip from the drink, her hand still trapped between his and the cup. She swallowed reflexively as he did, and did not tear her eyes from his face as he stood straight again.
"Now it is customary for you to drink," he urged softly, and Elatharia almost felt guilty for watching. Until she remembered that this was a public place, and seeing Viconia off balance was highly entertaining.
Grimacing as if under duress, the drow did as the tiefling suggested, and winced as she swallowed.
"Rul'selozan!" the drow told him, looking anew at the steaming dark liquid in the cup, "What is this?"
"Coffee, from…Maztica?" Haer'Dalis just laughed when she grimaced again, sniffing at it distrustfully, and tried another sip.
Author's note:
Rul'selozan - 'Disgusting' (from the website 'Chosen of Eilistraee')