Chapter 36
True to his word, Kagain waited for exactly ten minutes before ordering his men to move out. Imoen scowled at him, having yet to finish wiping mud from Dorean's face and beard.
The party followed behind the mercenaries, heading south through the woods to avoid the road. As usual Montaron took the lead, which Dorean now suspected was more to make Khalid and Jaheira less on guard than anything else. He gazed quietly at the halfling's back, pondering the man's intentions.
Doubt I'd learn anything more about him for now. He's not one to talk much. He glanced at Eldoth. Although...
Deciding to mentally shelve the issue for now, Dorean spoke to Imoen, Garrick and the half-elves who told him of their own experiences in the battle with the Black Talons and after he was arrested. Jessa Vai had been genuine in her orders; her men had waited and then escorted the party back to the caravan camp.
"We s-saw her while we were travelling to the F-Friendly Arm," said Khalid. "She...didn't look v-very happy."
Dorean's mind recalled Vai standing before Benjamin Farrahd in his tent, stiffly accepting his acknowledgment of 'her' report. He frowned, but decided to say nothing for now.
Imoen, having finished cleaning Dorean's face while they marched, fell back to offer to clean Xzar's robes. The wizard responded by leaping two feet into the air and frantically scrambling past her to Montaron's side, and the pink-clad girl pouted at him before returning to her roommate.
An hour passed, during which the party mostly listened to the muttered conversations of the mercenaries. Garrick attempted a song to lighten their spirits, stopping when Kagain stomped back and threw a rock at his head before returning to the front.
"He's not very fond of music, is he?" the bard said mildly, standing up from where he had ducked the thrown projectile.
"Perhaps," said Eldoth. "Or perhaps he did not appreciate your choice of song. Are you certain that was a proper dwarven war march?" he added with a glance at Dorean.
The dwarf remained silent as Eldoth and Garrick began an animated discussion on dwarven songs. He contemplated Garrick for a moment, noting that the bard out of everyone else in the party had noticed his hand injury. At least, he hoped Garrick was the only one who had noticed. He silently looked back to Montaron who was now speaking quietly to Xzar.
Does he know what actually happened? If so, why didn't he say anything? And why let me know that he knows?
He was brought out of his thoughts by Imoen holding a pear in front of his large nose. Dorean frowned at her smiling face before reluctantly taking and biting into the fruit. She gave one more wipe of his beard with the cloth in her other hand and then wrapped her arm around his neck, hugging him close, clearly deeply relieved at his escape and safety after his arrest.
Behind them, Khalid smiled warmly at the two roommates. Looking over and noticing Jaheira frowning at them, he hesitated for a moment before drawing closer to her and subtly taking her hand in his. She blinked and then turned her frown on him, yet made no attempt to free herself.
At the rear of the party, Ajantis silently noted the 'pairs' and camaraderie that was forming in the party. He smiled at Eldoth and Garrick arguing over the alleged existence of dwarven love poems. Rather than attempt to engage anyone in conversation himself, he remained by himself in the rear.
Watch over us in our journey, Vigilant One.
The young Helmite sent a silent thank you to Imoen for unintentionally driving Xzar to the front of the party. It had been a very uncomfortable hour with the wizard walking right beside him and staring without blinking at his head the entire time.
..
The sun had sunk halfway into the horizon by the time Kagain finally called a halt. In contrast to most of his men who immediately sat down and removed their packs from their shoulders, the dwarven leader remained standing, pointing to and giving orders to five of them. They glowered, but none dared to openly voice their resentment of being assigned lookout after nearly twelve hours of non-stop marching.
"Fifteen minutes," Kagain barked. "Catch ya breath an' fill ya stomachs, but water only! No alcohol! Lene, check on Maija. I don't care if she says she's fine, hold her down if she resists."
He stomped away towards the party who were now resting in the rear, ignoring the mutters and glares from his men.
"Hmph. Ya ain't dead yet," he declared, his eyes lingering on Garrick who was breathing heavily with his back against a tree. "What's the manner, music boy, can't handle a little walk?"
"What do you want, dwarf?" Jaheira said brusquely.
"We're less than an hour to Thalantyr's place, an' my scouts saw somethin' that wasn't there the last time we were 'round here; a log cabin a hundred paces ahead, camouflaged and locked up tight. I want ya ta check it out now, make sure no one's in there."
"Why us an' not yer scouts?" asked Montaron. Kagain sneered.
"'Cos ya owe me. Now get on it."
He turned on his heel and stomped nosily back to his men. Montaron's lip curled as he stood up and turned to Dorean. "Come on."
Feeling Khalid and Jaheira stir from beside him, Dorean silently got to his feet, placing a hand on Imoen's shoulder to prevent her from rising. "It's better if there are less of us."
"Yeah," Montaron agreed, pointing at Imoen. "Ye stay here."
The dwarf and halfling turned to leave.
"Montaron."
The assassin stopped and slowly turned around to face Khalid.
"He had better not be injured when you return."
The Harper and the Zhent glared coldly at each other for a moment before the latter turned away. Dorean paused to nod and smile at Khalid before following him. Imoen watched them out of sight, her expression forlorn. She then slowly took out more wrapped bacon from her food-bag and distributed it to the party (Eldoth accepted his reluctantly).
Xzar, whose hand and robes were still covered in dried blood, cautiously accepted a bacon strip while leaning away from and carefully avoiding contact with her fingers.
..
Kagain had not exaggerated about the cabin. Wooden boards had been nailed across the door and windows, and the walls and roof were thoroughly covered in foliage.
Looks abandoned to me, thought Dorean. Still, better safe than sorry.
He glanced at Montaron standing beside him. The halfling's eyes were fixed not on the cabin but its surroundings. Dorean joined him in scanning the tree branches above. After a minute, he felt Montaron's hand roughly pat his shoulder. Reluctantly, the dwarf moved from his hiding place, walked straight up to the cabin and knocked on the boarded-up door.
Deciding not to call out, Dorean waited ten seconds and then knocked again, forcing himself not to glance behind him. He felt a bead of sweat flow down his temple, half-expecting an arrow, crossbow bolt or spell to hit him in the back.
After about thirty seconds, despite not hearing any footsteps, Dorean sensed Montaron joining him in front of the door.
"Guess it's empty," he said, not trying to conceal his nervousness. "We should head back." Montaron ignored him, his eyes fixed on the door. "Montaron?"
The halfling began to scale the cabin's wall. Dorean groaned and watched as he clambered onto the roof.
"Come on," Montaron ordered.
Fuming, Dorean followed, wincing as his injured hand grasped the wood for support. Montaron made no attempt to help him, instead walking around and studying the leaves and moss covering the wooden roof. Massaging his right hand, Dorean watched as the halfling stopped near a corner, crouched down and swept leaves and dirt away from the surface to reveal a trapdoor.
Dorean took a few steps forward. Without looking up, Montaron shot out a hand to halt him.
"Trip-wire. Across the lid."
Dorean's eyes widened and he immediately looked up and began to scan the trees again. "We should get back and tell the others," he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady. He looked back to see Montaron carefully snipping the wire with his knife. "Montaron," he hissed.
The halfling continued to ignore him, opening the trapdoor and gazing down into the cabin. "Pressure plate right below," he said calmly.
With that, he stood up and dropped in. Dorean stared at the spot where he had disappeared, half-expecting to hear a click followed by a cry or scream. When neither occurred, he let out a frustrated growl through his beard and went over to the trap door.
"Montaron?" he called, again scanning the trees around the cabin. "I really think we should leave now."
No answer came. Dorean remained next to the trapdoor, not daring to go inside. Several minutes passed in silence save for the chirping of birds and insects.
A thought suddenly occurred to him; that should he return to the trapdoor, Montaron would be vulnerable while attempting to climb out.
His eyes focused on the open trapdoor and his left hand curled around the knife at his belt.
I could say that he fell to one of the traps.
Montaron's hands suddenly appeared at the lip of the trapdoor, followed by his head. His eyes instantly flicked to Dorean's hand on his belt knife, then to his face.
A few seconds passed.
Dorean stepped back. Montaron silently climbed out, turned around, closed the trapdoor and brushed leaves and dirt over it. He turned back and walked past Dorean, passing so close that their arms nearly touched, and dropped down from the roof. The dwarf hesitated for a moment before following him.
Neither of them spoke as they made their way back, and when they returned, they found the party all standing in front of the seated mercenaries.
"Lived in," said Montaron. "Clean an' well-kept. Supplies an' weapons."
Kagain's eyebrows came together. "An' ya didn't take any?"
"Didn't touch anything. Place is completely booby-trapped."
Kagain's beard bristled, which Dorean recognized as a sign that he had clenched his jaw, before quickly turning to his men. "Break's over, get ya asses up! I don't care if it ain't been fifteen minutes, get up an' get ya shit!" He turned back to the party. "We'll skirt this area. Head south, get outta these damn woods. Then we'll go east ta Thalantyr's."
Xzar tilted his head and grinned. "You know who lives in that cabin, do you?" he purred. Kagain glared at him, seemingly more out of principle than at the question, before turning back to the others. When he spoke again, his voice was low and grim.
"If it's who I think it is, we need ta get away from here now."
..
Disgruntled and tired, the mercenaries grumbled to one another under their breaths. There were many repeated glances at the party behind them, and at Jaheira's instruction the party kept their distance, the memory of the Red Sheaf mutiny still fresh in their minds.
Thankfully, the muttered complaints were all that resulted from the prolonged march, and within an hour, the trees gave way to an open road. Relieved that they no longer had to trek through forest undergrowth, the mercenaries' mood lifted, and a few of them even fell back to chat with the outsiders. One even attempted to flirt with Jaheira and was repelled by a glacial, half-lidded scowl from her, earning a smirk from Eldoth and, to Dorean's surprise, a wry smile from Khalid.
"Ah! There it is," said Garrick, pointing at what appeared to be stone turrets appearing over the slope of a grassy hill. "High Hedge. The estate of Thalantyr the Conjurer." He paused and stroked his chin as they drew closer. "Hmm. The towers are newer than the rest of the building. Why is that?"
"Wizard," Dorean, Imoen, Khalid and Jaheira answered simultaneously. Garrick blinked at them before looking at Xzar, who frowned and leaned away from him.
"Hey, ya wanna keep it down back there?!" Kagain hollered. "I don't think the Dukes inna city could hear ya!"
"Says the lout who's making more noise than all of us put together," Imoen muttered as the dwarf turned away with a clunk of his heavy steel-shod boots. Dorean made to elbow her in the side and stopped upon seeing one of Kagain's scouts jogging towards them.
"Any Fists?" Kagain asked.
"Nah, boss. But there's a guy inna tree watchin' the place. Silver haired an' dressed all in black."
"What?! Oh, it better not be who I..." Kagain's next words were lost as he stomped forward. The party exchanged looks before following the mercenaries after their leader.
Growling under his breath and swinging his broad arms, Kagain strode forward as fast as his short legs would allow, stopping a short distance from a tree where, sure enough, a silver-haired figure clad in black and bright brown could clearly be seen perched in the branches.
"Permy! Get the hell down here!"
The stranger gave a start, turned and scowled at the assembly below him and yelled back, "Go away! I'm trying to plan the grandest of heists here!"
"Ya get down here right now before I get ya down!"
Tilting his head upwards and rolling his eyes with a loud, drawn-out groan, the stranger nimbly climbed and slid down the tree. He turned to face them again, revealing a youthful face that could not be older than seventeen.
"What in the Hell are ya doin' here, Permy?" demanded Kagain.
"The name is Permidion Stark! And not that it is any of your business, but I am going to pull off the greatest heist in-"
"Where did ya get those weapons?!" Kagain exclaimed, stepping closer and pointing at the youth's sword and bow.
"What's it matter where I got them?!" Permidion retorted. "And it's none of your business anyway!"
Kagain's hand swung up and slapped him hard across the face, sending him to the ground.
"Talk back ta me, will ya?!" the dwarf shouted. "Little punk like you, talk back ta me?!"
"Kagain!" Ajantis yelled, marching forward and ignoring the mercenaries tensing up around him. "That is enough!"
"Oh dear," said Eldoth, his eyes on the Dented Shields. The party hurried after Ajantis.
"Stay outta this, squire-boy," Kagain growled. Ajantis stepped forward until they were nose-to-belly.
"I will not have you strike a child!"
"I'll be hittin' you if ya don't back up outta my face right n-"
"Captain!" Lene shouted. The dwarf turned around to see a red-faced Permidion standing up and drawing his sword. With a loud cry, the young thief raised the weapon over his head, only to drop it when Kagain's left hand slapped his other cheek, dropping him to the ground again.
"Draw a blade on me, you little-"
"I said that's enough!" Ajantis roared. "He is only a child!"
Kagain's bright blue eyes glared up at the tall squire who refused to back down. Noticing the mercenaries drawing closer, Khalid moved behind Ajantis and turned around to face them.
"Not again..." Imoen groaned.
Kagain spat off to the side, turned back to Permidion and kicked the sword down the slope of the hill. He then roughly turned him over with his boot and wrenched his bow from his back before tossing it down the hill as well.
"Get the hell outta here, Permy. An' if I see ya with a weapon or outta town alone again, it's gonna be more than a coupla slaps!"
Permidion staggered to his feet, his nose bloody and his eyes aflame. A moment passed with him glaring hatefully at Kagain, his fists clenched and jaw trembling, before he slowly turned and stalked away.
"Stupid kid," Kagain muttered. "Oughta give his drunk of a father a slap as..." he paused upon seeing Montaron step past him towards Permidion with dagger in hand. "What are ya doin'?"
Montaron ignored him and drew his arm back to throw the dagger. In the next three seconds, an axe, two swords and a quarterstaff were all pointed at the halfling's face. He slowly turned his head to face their owners.
"Put away your weapon, sir, or I will be forced to take action," Ajantis ordered sternly.
"He gets to town, people'll know we're here," Montaron calmly replied.
"Shut up an' put it away," Kagain growled. "Now."
Montaron's cold gaze rested on Kagain's before moving to the two half-elves. A smirk rose to the corner of his lips as he slowly returned the throwing dagger to his belt. He then turned and walked away towards the estate.
"I am surprised," said Jaheira, her eyes fixed on the retreating halfling. "Yet glad to learn that some of us have our limits."
There were a few seconds of silence followed by Kagain snorting and belting his axe before yelling at his men to get moving. Behind them, Eldoth let out an exasperated sigh before turning to Garrick. "Still want to travel with us, friend?"
"Oh, absolutely," Garrick replied with a thoroughly sincere smile. Eldoth and Xzar (who was standing next to Eldoth) frowned at him.
"This one is not right in the head," said the wizard. Garrick, Eldoth, Imoen, Dorean and several mercenaries within earshot all stared at him.
"You think it'll be okay?" Imoen asked Dorean as she watched Permidion stumble away with a hand over his left cheek. "Not that I mean we should have..."
"Nothing we can do about it now," Dorean replied morosely.
She gave his shoulder a squeeze, nearly causing him to drop his blowpipe as he carefully returned it to his pocket.
..
Ignoring the brass knocker on each of the tall, cone-shaped double doors, Kagain grasped both door knobs and swung them open, leading the party and his men into the lobby of the estate. His boots echoed loudly off the tiled floor, the metallic sound rising to the high ceiling.
"Hey! Thalantyr! Get ya ass over here!"
There was a distant crash, colourful swearing, the duel slams of a door being violently opened and then shut, and pounding footsteps before a grey-haired man of average height and build and dressed in elaborate robes of green, gold and dark red appeared in the entranceway.
"What?!" he shouted.
"Whattaya mean 'what', let us in," Kagain replied.
"No! No, I don't care what it is, I don't care what you've got to say or to offer, I have enough on my damn plate as-"
"One'a my guys is wounded."
"I said I'm fine-" a voice snarled from behind.
"Shut up, Maija, nobody's talkin' to ya!" Kagain snapped over his shoulder. "Well?" he turned back to Thalantyr. "Yes or no, we don't have all day."
The old wizard glared at him and the two dozen faces assembled in the lobby.
"Leave your weapons," he said at last. "And your damn footwear!" he added with a glower at the mud and dirt on the floor.
"Do as he says, boys," Kagain ordered his men. "An' show some respect, we're in his home."
Reluctantly, the party and mercenaries removed their weapons and boots. Thalantyr stood in the centre of the entranceway, arms folded and eyes narrowed as, at Kagain's instruction, everyone arranged their weapons and footwear in neat rows so as not to obstruct the lobby. The magus' eyes lingered on the still-bloodied Xzar who had cheerfully removed his shoes and placed them next to Dorean's, and they narrowed further upon seeing the dwarf remove a knife from his boot and place it on the floor.
"You, your injured man," said Thalantyr. "And these people," he added with a sweeping finger at the party. "The rest stay here."
"Don't touch anything, nugget," Kagain growled at Dorean. Imoen stuck her tongue out at him as soon as he turned his back.
"Behave yourself, child," Jaheira scolded. Imoen frowned at her but said nothing.
They followed behind Kagain (whose footsteps still somehow managed to be loud despite his footwear being reduced to thick socks) as Thalantyr led them down two wide hallways. Maija walked behind her boss ahead of the party, sullenly swinging her fists from side to side. The old magus stopped at a set of double doors in the centre of a third hallway, pushed them open and stepped inside, the party filing behind after him.
"Strange," said Garrick, eyes roving over the beds arranged in two neat rows along the walls. "For a man who does not welcome visitors, he keeps good lodgings."
Kagain turned to Maija and pointed at the nearest bed, his expression brooking no argument. She glowered at him but silently obeyed, easing herself onto it with a pained groan. She then yelled out in protest as Jaheira walked up and began to unceremoniously remove her bandages.
Rolling his eyes at his subordinate's curses, Kagain looked away, his eyes narrowing upon seeing that they were not alone; a woman, an elf from her ears, was sitting upright on one of the beds along the opposite wall, silently watching the new arrivals.
"Hey, Thalantyr!" the dwarf said loudly. "Who's the swish?"
"None of your business!" the magus snapped. "Outside. Now."
With a loud snort and another suspicious glance at the elf, Kagain followed Thalantyr out of the room.
"He's in a bad mood," said Dorean. "Not a good start to our request for help."
"Kagain doesn't seem the type to make requests," Imoen replied, scowling at the door where the mercenary leader had disappeared. Dorean sighed.
"I know you don't like him, but-"
"But nothin'," she huffed, turning away and crossing her arms.
The party stood and listened to Maija's complaints falling on deaf ears as Jaheira examined and applied more healing magic to her wound, then shoved a handful of berries into the mercenary's hands before returning to the party. The elf continued to watch them from the other side of the room, her expression quiet and unreadable. Glancing at her, Dorean noted that she was dressed in a light brown tunic and that a pack, presumably hers, had been placed under the table next to her bed.
Garrick's brow had furrowed, and he was openly staring at the elf. He looked about to go over and speak to her when the door opened again and Kagain poked his head in.
"Follow me, all'a yas. An' Maija, I want all that shit the druid's given ya in ya stomach by the time I get back, ya hear me?"
Maija scowled and looked away before contemptuously shoving all of the berries into her mouth. Kagain glared at her as she chewed noisily, glanced at the elven stranger again, then looked back at the party.
"Well? Whattaya standin' there for? He's waitin'."
..
Thalantyr's study, Dorean observed, bore an uncanny resemblance to Gorion's in Candlekeep, the most noticeable difference being that the conjurer's is much larger. Two of the four walls were covered from floor to high ceiling with bookshelves, neither of which seemed to have a ladder. Even his desk was similar to Gorion's, though messier; scrolls, ink bottles, quill pens both broken and intact, and potion vials with varying colours and amounts of liquids were strewn all over it. One of the latter had been knocked over, its contents now drying on several unfortunate scrolls.
The magus himself stood in front of the desk, his hands in the pockets of his robes and a sullen scowl on his face as the party led by Kagain filed into the room. Once more, his eyes lingered on Xzar who again chose to stand next to Eldoth.
"Kagain has told me about your situation," he said, clearly not in the mood for pleasantries. "And I'll tell you what I told him; going into Beregost would be very dangerous and monumentally stupid. If you need supplies, mundane or magical, I can provide them, for a price," he added with a pointed look at Kagain. "Then, I suggest you leave at once and go straight to Nashkel, once your friend has rested."
"Aye," said Montaron. "I like this plan."
"And I do not, unfortunately," Eldoth said firmly. "I cannot travel further until I have-"
"No one's talkin' to ye," Montaron snapped. For the first time in the party's eyes, Eldoth Kron openly displayed anger as he glared back at his former partner.
"If we are bringing this to a vote," Ajantis hastily interjected. "I am in agreement with Thalantyr. Will it not be safer to obtain what we need here?"
"What about Eldoth?" asked Dorean. Montaron glared at him.
"What do ye care?"
"I want to help him, Montaron."
"And I want to help him help him," said Xzar. The party (including Montaron) all stared at him.
"Why?" Jaheira asked for all of them, the one syllable dripping with suspicion and distrust. Xzar raised an eyebrow at her in imitation of Eldoth.
"Why do you ask?" he said loftily.
"Enough already!" Imoen suddenly shouted, making everyone jump. "Mister Thalantyr," she implored to the magus who had now folded his arms and was watching the party with a mixture of irritation and fascination. "Could you help us? And not just by selling us your wares. We're all in really big trouble."
Thalantyr scowled at her. "I know, he told me," he said, inclining his head at Kagain. "And my position is unchanged," he added sternly. "I will offer no aid beyond-"
He stopped and looked up at the sounds of shouts and clashing metal. For a single second, the party remained still, exchanging alarmed looks with one another.
Then everyone moved at once. There was a brief scrum at the door and then they were through, Jaheira leading them down the hallway.
"Ya didn't put up any wards?!" Kagain shouted at Thalantyr who was running beside him.
"I was busy!" the magus retorted.
"Busy with ya latest squeeze! What kinda soddin' moron forgets ta-"
"Shut the hell up!" Thalantyr yelled, increasing his speed and outpacing the dwarf as the party turned a corner and thundered down another corridor.
The shouts became louder and more distinguishable as they drew closer.
"Get back, get the hell back-!"
"Drop your weapons right now-!"
"You come any closer, you go out feet-first, I swear on-!"
They reached the lobby and Jaheira skidded to a halt. The party all followed suit, Dorean and Imoen (and Khalid who had stayed beside them all the way) nearly colliding into her from behind.
"Silvanus aid us!" Jaheira exclaimed, raising her quarterstaff.
Before her stood a half-dozen Flaming Fist mercenaries, back-to-back with shields locked and facing two split groups of Kagain's mercenaries, of whom about only half appeared to have succeeded in grabbing their weapons and shields off the floor. One of them hurled a muddy boot, bouncing it off an enemy shield. At least a dozen more Flaming Fist mercenaries stood outside the open double doors, weapons and spell-casting hands raised in preparation for battle.
Hearing something from just beside him, Ajantis turned to look, his eyes widening upon seeing Xzar chanting the words to a spell.
"STOP." Thalantyr boomed, his voice so unnaturally loud that the very ground seemed to tremble. Everybody fell silent, their heads turned to the magus who now suddenly appeared to be taller and more imposing.
"Thalantyr the Conjurer!" said a familiar, commanding voice, and Dorean immediately stepped behind Khalid as Captain Benjamin Farrahd boldly marched through the entrance and past his six men inside the lobby, stopping a few paces in front of Jaheira's quarterstaff. "These people are criminals wanted by the state! By the authority of the Council of Four, I beseech you to aid us in apprehending-"
"I care not what the state or the Council wants," Thalantyr said, his voice stern and calm yet still unnaturally loud. "In here, the only authority I recognize is my own. And I say that as long as you are under my roof, you will stand down. All of you!" he added, looking around at the party and Kagain's mercenaries.
Farrahd stiffened, his dark blue eyes boring into Thalantyr's as he stood directly in front of the party, arms at his sides and his men behind him. The scar on his cheek was highlighted in the dusk sunlight filtering through the windows high above, and Dorean grimaced upon seeing that his left ear was gone.
"Kagain," said Thalantyr. "Tell your men to lower their weapons."
"Them first," the dwarf growled back, running his fingers and tightening his grip on the haft of his axe. Thalantyr glared at him before silently looking back to Farrahd.
"Captain?" said one of the two Flaming Fist mercenaries just behind Farrahd. The latter neither replied nor moved, still staring a hole through Thalantyr's face.
Thunderous footfalls suddenly filled the air, echoing off the walls. From opposite ends of the lobby appeared two gigantic humanoids over nine feet tall, shuffling forward on huge, misshapen feet. Their enormous torsos, covered in surgical, messily stitched scars, cast shadows over most of the mercenaries, who reeled back at the sight of the lifeless eyes in heads far too small for their bodies.
"Helm's beard-!" Ajantis gasped.
"Flesh golems," Xzar mused, his hands still poised to launch what Imoen suspected was a Horror spell. "Poorly constructed, but relatively functional." He paused and added, "No offense," at Thalantyr.
"Orders, Captain?" said the same Flaming Fist mercenary, his voice now, to his credit, only shaking very slightly.
"Anyone who chooses to attack anyone else in my home will be subjected to my law," said Thalantyr.
No one dared to move. The two flesh golems stopped just behind both groups of Dented Shield mercenaries.
"Kagain," Lene warned from one of the groups.
"Them. First," the dwarf snarled, his eyes fixed on Farrahd whose own gaze had not left Thalantyr's face.
Like the golems, Farrahd stood very still. After several agonizing seconds, his eyes slowly moved to each of the party standing around Thalantyr. They stopped on Imoen who was holding her bow steady with the arrow pointed directly at his face. Dorean, whose own hands were devoid of a weapon, was tugging on the hem of her shirt in a futile attempt to pull her behind Khalid.
"Men," Farrahd said softly, his voice echoing in the otherwise silent lobby. "Outside."
After a long moment of hesitation, the Flaming Fist obeyed, though the one who had spoken lingered behind Farrahd.
"Captain..."
"Go, Sergeant," Farrahd replied without looking. He remained still even after his men were all gone from sight, leaving him alone in the lobby with Kagain's mercs and the party, of whom Jaheira's quarterstaff was still close to his face. His dark blue, half-lidded eyes moved over them all, the calm, emotionless stare more threatening than any wrathful glare.
"My orders are to apprehend only three of you," he said slowly. "Keep that in mind."
He slowly turned around and marched towards the open double doors, looking neither to the left or right.
A long silence followed his receding footsteps. Then, with a series of guttural, furious growls, Kagain stomped forward, stuck his head out and quickly peered around, then pulled both doors shut, ripped off his helmet, whirled around and hurled it over the heads of the party into the hall beyond.
"They will prepare an ambush for us," Lene said grimly, breaking the silence. Kagain did not answer her, still lost in his glowering.
No one spoke for a moment.
"My home is not a sanctuary for fugitives," said Thalantyr. "You are free to look over and purchase what I have for sale, but then you must leave."
The lobby was instantly filled with a buzz of raised voices, a majority protesting Thalantyr's announcement while others argued for alternative measures. A few even pointed and shouted at Dorean and the two Zhents.
Keeping her short-bow at the ready, Imoen backed away behind Khalid, glancing at Kagain who was pointing at Thalantyr and yelling something about the man 'owing him.'
She looked down at Dorean beside her. As always, his beard obscured half of his features, and his hood covered most of his eyes. Regardless, she felt rather than saw his calm, stoic demeanour; like a rock in a tide of emotions. She then blinked in surprise as he suddenly moved forward, his walking pace deceptively fast as he reached Thalantyr, lifted a hand and tapped him repeatedly on the hip with his finger.
The magus paused in a simultaneous argument with Kagain and Jaheira to round angrily on Dorean. The dwarf calmly made a head gesture towards the hallway, silently asking to speak to him in private. Thalantyr's brow furrowed as he glared down at him, yet after a few seconds he detached himself from the crowd and pushed past the party members in front of him, waving a hand at Dorean to follow. The dwarf obeyed, ignoring the gazes of the crowd behind him as they watched him walk behind the old wizard towards his study.
Silence fell once more in the lobby.
"Why golems?" Garrick suddenly asked aloud. "What happened to the griffons?"
Everyone stared at him.
"I told you, this one is not right in the head!" Xzar hissed into Eldoth's ear, seemingly unaware that everyone could hear him. Eldoth stared at him for a long moment.
"I have to say..." he slowly drawled. "You are a very...intriguing person."
There was a cough from Montaron that sounded suspiciously like a snort, and a few of the mercenaries even snickered, albeit briefly. Smiling good-naturedly at everyone, Garrick sat down on the floor and crossed his legs, then removed his flute and brought it to his lips, playing a slow, sooth-sounding tune.
Everyone blinked at him before lowering, sheathing or picking up their weapons.
"Let us all sit down," said Jaheira. "It has been a long day's travel."
"Hey, I give the damn orders here!" Kagain snapped. He paused at Jaheira's half-lidded stare and then added "Yeah, yeah, fine, sit the sod down. Not you two!" he added with a pointed finger at the two mercenaries who were unfortunate enough to be standing nearest to him. "Ya on guard duty. Go stand by the door."
..
"Leave it," Thalantyr ordered, striding further into the room as Dorean made to close the door. The old magus turned around and leaned against his desk once more, crossing his arms over his chest as he awaited whatever the dwarven fugitive had to say.
"I think I know how you would help us in regards to getting into Beregost, should you decide to do so," said Dorean. Thalantyr frowned, but said nothing. "And you know by now that we need it more than ever." Dorean paused, awaiting a reply from the wizard who remained silent. "You know we cannot leave. Not with the Flaming Fist out there. They will ambush us if we do, and at the very least, they will kill or capture a number of us. I do not know whether that concerns you, Master Thalantyr," he said, his voice growing solemn. "Nor will I hazard a guess. But I will say this," he continued, puffing out his thin chest as he looked up at the man's face. "If you aid us, I will be in your debt. And please, not Kagain, nor the ones who have been accused of being my accomplices. Me. And I promise you, no matter what form it may take, I will repay that debt, be it in gold or in actions. No matter the risk."
Thalantyr gazed down at the little dwarf through half-lidded eyes. He did not speak for a moment.
"How could I be certain," he said at last, his voice slow and measured. "That I will even see you again should I accept your offer? That you would return or even survive?"
Dorean lifted his head, looking him full in the eyes. "Because you will have my word."
"And is that supposed to be enough?"
"A dwarf does not break his word, Thalantyr," Dorean replied, his voice suddenly stern as he narrowed his eyes at the magus. "And you know that."
Thalantyr lifted his chin, staring past his nose at Dorean. Silence fell upon the messy study, Thalantyr leaning against his desk while Dorean stood ramrod straight, neither faltering or backing down.
"Tell Kagain I want to see him," Thalantyr said at last.
Dorean slowly nodded and turned towards the door.
"And tell those goons of his to clean up my damn floor," Thalantyr added. "I don't want to see any dirt when I return."