This is the final part of Returned to Sender, a three-part arc with two special guest stars and was written by Laufey. She did a wonderful job. Check out Laufey's In the Cards while you're at it. If you like TnT, you'll like In the Cards.
Tankards and Tempers
Chapter 51 : Returned To Sender 3 - How To Dispose of a Zulkir in Three Easy Steps.
While Dynaheir was occupied elsewhere, Laska had reached her mansion and was having a conversation of her own. She had gathered her remaining friends in the dining room and was currently speaking in a rather forceful voice, thumping her fist on the table now and then to make a point. The fact that said fist was currently holding the fork she had used for dinner helped make the impression a lasting one, at least on the priceless antique dining table. Keldorn winced visibly each time the fork came down. "Well, I don't trust him", Laska said, digging the fork in just a little deeper. "Anybody hanging out with Edwin has to be a first-class sneaky, underhanded bastard. And there is something else that bothers me about him…"
"What would that be?" Keldorn asked.
"I. *stab* Don't. *stab* Know. *stab* And it's driving me nuts!. Why are you asking me anyway? You're supposed to be a paladin, can't you just…I don't know…wiggle your fingers and ferret out the evil within?"
The old paladin sighed deeply. "I am sorry to say it does not quite work that way", he said. "Good and evil are complex matters, Laska. Were this person a demon in disguise I would be able to tell, or if he were the high priest of some evil god. But what I can normally sense in a person are tendencies, not absolutes, and in this case I found even that to be difficult. I can say that he is dangerous."
"No?" Viconia interjected. "Whatever would make you think that?"
"As I was saying", Keldorn went on, looking a little irritable, "he is dangerous, but I also got the impression that he will keep his word, at least when freely given such as in this case. I do not think he will attack us, not unless provoked." He gave Laska a sharp look. "Try not to take any more swings at him. We want your sister's letter, not a fight to the death."
The tattooed elf shrugged, displaying her body to its full advantage as her vest moved slightly aside. "Hey, I missed, didn't I? Besides, he didn't take it personally, and he was annoying me…" She suddenly fell silent. Finally she knew what had been bothering her about the assassin, and it was so obvious that she couldn't imagine why she hadn't thought of it before. 'How could I be so blind? It was all there right in front of me!' "The…the…the bloody bastard!" she almost screamed. "How dare he insult me like that? I'll…I'll…I'll smack him so hard his nose comes out the back of his head!"
"Eh?" Korgan said. "What now?"
"Don't you get it? Don't you see?"
"I saw only that the long-limb be pretty full of 'imself, an' fond of fancy talk. Be that why ye wants to cleave 'im into little bits?"
"No."
"Then what is it?" Viconia asked, clearly almost out of patience. "You are making no sense whatsoever."
Laska was almost too indignant to get the words out. "He…he…he didn't notice me!" she said, stabbing the fork so hard into the table that it stuck there and wouldn't come out. Keldorn quietly put his head in his hands.
"What do you mean 'did not notice you'?" Viconia asked, a puzzled frown on her dark face. "He was talking to you, remember?"
"Sure he noticed me! But he didn't notice me! As in ogle, leer, stare or drool!" The elf pointed at her impressive physique, looking highly insulted. "I might as well have been a…a…an Umberhulk, for all the attention he gave me. He might as well have been taking inventory of a collection of used books!" She suddenly looked wildly panicky. "Oh gods. Suppose something's wrong with me? Suppose I'm ill? Suppose I'm cursed? Suppose Rose doesn't notice me now either?"
"Heh!" Korgan said. "I'll be happy to notice ye, any time ye wants me to…"
"Laska!" Viconia sharply said, reaching across the table to rap her friend smartly on the forehead. "You're hysterical. And even dumber than you usually are."
"But…"
"Look, it is obvious what's the matter here. Since the male in question isn't blind, and isn't stupid, he has to be collared by another female. He is probably trained well enough that he wouldn't even pay attention to you if you stripped naked and threw yourself at him. I never knew there were any surface females that skilled, but there can be no other explanation. We can always ask him tomorrow, I should very much like to meet the female in question."
At this the wine that Keldorn had been in the process of swallowing hit the opposite wall with a great spurt, and both Korgan and Jan had to thump him on the back to get him breathing again. "Please", the paladin said, "please, please do no such thing without consulting with me first. Imoen's letter, do you remember that? Not fight to the death?"
"Oh Keldorn", Viconia laughed. "You rivvel are so sensitive."
"Viconia, promise me! Or I assure you that our blood will flow freely and that our hopes of regaining the missive sent by our lost companion will be cruelly swallowed by a tide of darkness."
"Oh, all right!", the drow said. "If you want to put it that way…"
The following afternoon the friends assembled at the designated meeting-place, a small and quiet square not far from the large mansion in the Government District where the Zulkir was staying. Dynaheir had steadfastly avoided all questions about what had been said in her private conversation with the assassin, stating only that 'certain matters had come to her attention, and she would not betray secrets not her own.' Jan had even tried pumping Minsc for information, but all the ranger had said was that he 'wouldn't speak of what the witches wanted secret, not unless it was Bad Witches, but since it wasn't then he wouldn't or they would be very disappointed in him.' That didn't really make anybody any wiser, and in the end they had to let it be.
"Wouldn't it be typical", Laska said, "if after all this they didn't bother to show up? Wouldn't surprise me one little bit if it was all some elaborate trap."
"Now that would be incredibly rude of us, wouldn't you say?" said a low voice from some distance behind the adventurers. "Not to mention foolish, since we do still wish to employ your service. Really, you must have a very low opinion of us. I feel positively hurt." Laska spun around, Ipsiya glowing like a blue flame in her hand. Dekaras was leaning against the high wall bordering one of the surrounding estates, looking for all the world as if he had been there for hours. Possibly he even had, but if he had heard any of the previous conversation he made no mention of it. Then the air shimmered next to him and Edwin became visible, and looking very pleased with himself.
"Please, do try to gape a little wider", the Red Wizard said. "The flies have been particularly bothersome today, and you do such a fine job of getting rid of them. (I must say I never realized just how entertaining this sort of thing is, particularly when they get that bug-eyed look on their faces.)"
"Say, Keldy?" Jan asked. "Where's your nifty Griffin Eye spell when we really need it?"
"It is called the Holy Gift of True Sight", Keldorn said. "And I cannot go around using it randomly, you know. I must first have some indication that there is somebody hidden close by that I need to see. It is not as if it will go off on its own the moment somebody is trying to creep up on me."
"And a good thing too, for all us semi-legal folks!" the gnome chirped. "Say, my dear associate", he asked the by now quite bored-looking assassin, "did you know that a relative of mine was in the cutthroat business? My second cousin on my mother's side, Wilfred Jansen, but everybody called him Stinky. He was too cheap to buy black facial paint for his assignments, you see, and he tried to make due with griffin dung instead. Poor fellow, he never quite grasped why people would always sense him coming. 'By the wrinkling of my nose, something stinky this way goes', that's what we always used to say. But anyway, Stinky was all set on assassinating the Princess of Tethyr. Her wicked step-mother wanted her out of the way because she was much more skilled at the Royal Wave, you see. So Stinky came up with the cunning plan of poisoning a pretty turnip and offering to the princess as a present. Carefully he injected some Hubajabajawa extract into the turnip, knowing that this deadly poison would be certain to kill her and…"
"Excuse me", Dekaras politely said. "I fear I must ask you to clarify something. I admit I am not an expert on the royal lines of every Faerunian monarchy, but I believe I would have heard of it if Tethyr had had a gnomish princess."
"Ah…gnomish?" Jan said, looking a little confused.
"Yes. Gnomish. Since Hubajabajawa extract is only poisonous to gnomes, and you claimed that it would kill her, I assumed that was what you meant. Unless of course you have your facts confused."
"Oh no, not at all, I…"
"And furthermore", the assassin went on, "when combined with a turnip the extract isn't poisonous even to gnomes. Instead it makes up a popular gnomish recipe to counteract baldness, something that most non-gnomes wouldn't be aware of, as I'm sure you know." He gave the gnome's shining scalp a critical look. "Incidentally, the next time you make up a batch you may want to think about adding some were-rat hair. That will make it work better. Oh, and be careful about which part of the were-rat you harvest the hair from. The head-end would be far preferable to the crotch-end I think, at least for the sake of your companions. I don't think you would want your head to smell like a were-rat's nether regions." He then gave the strangely quiet Jan a look that Laska was certain was intended to look innocent, but didn't quite make it. His face wasn't quite suited for looking innocent. "Oh, I beg your pardon", he said. "Did I interrupt your story? Some other time, perhaps. Now let me explain what I want you to do…"
'Hm', Laska thought. 'The bastard may have a good point or two to recommend him after all. Not that I'm about to forgive him for not noticing, but still…'
The current Zulkir of Conjuration was a man who enjoyed his comforts. The comforts he was currently enjoying were a nice hot bath filled with enchanted magical bubbles that wouldn't burst for hours, a nice box of exquisite chocolates, a good book of deliciously fiendish spells and an enormous Crystal Ball set above the tub and enspelled to show him the annual Miss Faerun competition. At the moment the Misses were parading around the stage wearing much-reduced versions of their countries' or cities' respective national costumes. Miss Waterdeep was currently up, wearing a dress that looked like it had been painted onto her body. The old wizard sighed contentedly. And then there was a timid knock on the door.
"Pardon, Master", said one of his attendants. "But there are some people here to see you. I think you'd better come."
"So get rid of them! I'm quite busy."
"Master, I really think you should come."
Grumbling quietly to himself the Zulkir pulled on his thick red bathrobe and his pair of luxurious red slippers, heavily embroidered with gold thread and studded with large rubies. He would have added some diamonds as well, but he was afraid of looking too gaudy. When he reached the entry hall he was faced with a very strange sight. A very disreputable-looking dwarf with the largest axe he had ever seen was wandering about trying to chip jewels off the furniture and stuffing them into a rather dirty knapsack. Meanwhile an elderly man in shining armor and with a very sparkly sword was methodically removing the jewels from the knapsack again and trying to collect them inside his helmet, all the while looking terribly embarrassed. "Oy!" the dwarf said. "Here be a pretty little thing, pink diamond the size of a walnut. Should buy us ale to last for months!"
"Will you stop doing that?!" the knight hissed. "You cannot simply walk around taking other people's valuables!"
"Eh? Why not? It's nay as if it'd be any use takin' their trash, now is there? HAR!"
"What", the Zulkir said in his most threatening voice, "is the meaning of this?" It will never become clear exactly what reaction he was aiming for. Mute dread is a safe guess. What he did get was a terrifying roar as the dwarf suddenly charged towards him, axe spinning in the air like the wings of a windmill. The Zulkir was a very powerful wizard of course, with an impressive arsenal of spells at his command. A magical globe of energy immediately was activated, encasing him in a protective shield. Still, to counterattack he needed to be able to concentrate. And it's surprising how difficult it can be to concentrate when a dwarf screaming with berserker rage is inches away from your face, trying to chop your nose off with a very, very large axe. Better men than the Zulkir have tried and failed, it is really nothing to be ashamed of.
Just as the spell was about to give out the knight managed to pull his companion off, just barely restraining him. "I am so terribly sorry!" he called out to the shocked wizard. "He gets like this sometimes, and then there is no stopping him. I fear he has taken a dislike to you." A terrible growl from the dwarf confirmed this. "Please excuse us", the knight said. "I will take him home and feed him some raw meat. That calms him down…sometimes." With that he pushed the angry dwarf out the door, leaving a very surprised and rather nervous wizard behind. He didn't even notice that several gems were still missing. 'Insanity…total insanity. Young Edwin has a lot to pay for since he made me come to this barbaric city. Oh well. Back to Miss Waterdeep…'
Hardly had the wizard taken two steps into the house before there was another knock on the door. Angrily he tore it open, fully prepared to blast that ravening dwarf straight into the Abyss. But it wasn't a dwarf. Instead it was a small bearded gnome, who watched him shrewdly with glittering eyes. Behind him stood a vision of dark femininity, a ravishing beauty who suddenly made Miss Waterdeep seem a whole lot less interesting. 'A drow? Here?'
"Stand aside, male", the woman said, and regally swept past the wizard. "You are lucky I still allow you to live, despite your actions." Before the Zulkir had the time to reply she was already past him, walking from room to room, sneering at the many priceless paintings and statues that ornamented them. "Garbage", she said. "Trash…rubble…travesty." She pointed contemptuously at a beautiful painting of a reclining nymph in her bath. "An obvious forgery."
"And just who are you?" the Zulkir said. If she hadn't been so attractive he would already have attempted to destroy her for her nerve, but as it was he wanted to look on her a little longer. That became his undoing.
"I am the Lady Curator of the Amnian Guild of Artists, Painters and Puppeteers", the woman haughtily proclaimed. "You, sir, are in violation of Amnian law, an offense that could land you in jail for the rest of your natural lifespan." She gave the wrinkled old man a brief look. "Or five years, whichever takes longest."
The Zulkir didn't quite understand what was going on, but he had no desire to break Amnian law. That sort of problem could only create difficulties in his hunt for the insolent young wizard he intended to see dead. "Dear lady, I'm afraid I don't understand…"
"Oh you don't, do you?" the gnome interrupted. "Shame on you, sir. Next you'll claim to be unaware that more than half of these paintings were created with illegal griffin blood paint!"
"G-griffin blood paint?"
The gnome wiped a tear from his eye. "Poor innocent creatures, slaughtered to create decadent so-called masterpieces. Well, the Guild is coming down hard on the ruthless criminals who'd do such things. We need to keep our own doorstep clean, after all."
"In the meantime", the drow said, "we are taking the illegal paintings with us as evidence. If you can prove that you had no knowledge of their origin you may have them back. Here, take this receipt." She handed the dazed Zulkir an elegantly scribed note. "And be grateful I do not choose to whip you first." She snapped her fingers at the gnome. "You there! Fetch me every painting I point out!"
"Sure thing, your Exaltitude", the gnome said with a twisted grin and hauled out a device with a large and spinning blade. "Just say the word…"
Once the drow and the gnome had left the Zulkir stood staring alternately at the now mostly bare walls and at the receipt in his hand. His brain was still trying to catch up with the events of the past few minutes, but he couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was very wrong. In time he would undoubtedly have figured it out, but just then there was another knock on the door. "WHAT?" he screamed as he yanked the door open, spittle flying. Then he stared at the people standing outside the door. The elven woman with the delicious tattoos was certainly very attractive, and under other circumstances she would have commanded his full attention. The dark-skinned woman in purple mage robes wasn't bad-looking either. But what really attracted his attention was the enormous giant towering over him and sticking something small and furry into his face.
"Hello!" the giant boomed. "We are phil-ant-trop-ists collecting money for poor, orphaned little hamsters, trying to provide them with a safe and priv-il-eged upbringing." He raised the creature in his hand towards his face. "Did Minsc say that right, Boo? You will have to correct him, there were so many hard words…"
The Zulkir felt the edges of his sanity start to crumble. "That…that is a hamster you're talking to", he said, his voice much too calm.
"No, no!" the giant corrected him. "A miniature giant space-hamster. That is why he is so clever, much more clever than Minsc. He is the chair-hamster of the organization you know, and he made up a stirring speech for Minsc to recite, so you'll feel the waves of generous goodness rise high in your heart until they're brimming over and flooding the countryside! Just a moment, you will love it…"
"NO!" the Zulkir screamed. "NO, NO, NO! No more! I can't take it!" His eyes burning feverishly he conjured up a large bag of gold coins and deposited it in the giant's hand. "Here! Take it! Now please leave me alone!" With that he slammed the door in the visitors' faces, and just barely had time to hear the elf's outraged cry of 'Hey! Doesn't anybody notice me these days?'
Finally. Solitude. Serenity. Safety. The Zulkir sighed deeply as he slipped into the bath, tossing a large piece of chocolate into his mouth. Chocolate…that would help calm his nerves for certain. And the bubbles were still perfect. Miss Waterdeep was long gone, but all the misses were parading around in bathing suits now and…
And then the Crystal Ball reception flickered and sparkled, and a face that definitely wasn't female appeared on the screen. "Greetings, Zulkir", Edwin Odesseiron said with a very unpleasant smirk on his face. "I trust I find you well? Enjoying your bath? Enjoying the wandering maniacs of scenic Athkatla?"
The Zulkir gasped and intended to cast a spell, but something was very wrong. It was suddenly difficult to move, and even to think.
"Of course", Edwin said, "there is the small detail that while you were occupied elsewhere a certain rare poison was slipped into your bath, one that partly paralyzes you and keeps you from spell-casting - unless you have taken the antidote of course. Have you taken the antidote? No? Such a shame. In that case I'm afraid you are about to learn just how dangerous falling asleep in your bath can be…I've been told that it should look very natural afterwards, the poison will evaporate shortly, leaving no trace behind. You really shouldn't have tried to kill me you know. People who do that tend to regret it - if not for very long."
And then the Zulkir suddenly felt a pair of hands on his head, pressing him down, and as he tried to scream there were even more lovely bubbles. Not that he was in any condition to appreciate their fragile beauty, so reminiscent of that of a human life.
An hour or so later Laska and her friends were sitting at a table in the Copper Coronet, very pleased with their day so far. "Aye!" Korgan said. "This be a fine day! Gold, jewels, fancy pictures to sell…"
"We will not sell them, Korgan", Viconia patiently explained. "They are priceless masterpieces, they belong on our walls. Besides, they are certain to increase in value over time."
"Whatever", Laska said a little glumly, swallowing the last of her ale. "I still don't think it's fair that we had to go last. I wanted to terrorize the Zulkir too! Minsc took all the fun out of it…"
"Oh, I'm sure there are still a few wizards around to terrorize", Dekaras' voice said behind her. Laska did manage to keep from flinching, but she ground her teeth tightly. The assassin was walking up towards their table, Edwin trailing after him like a tame puppy, and he stopped a short distance away. "A very satisfactory arrangement", Dekaras said. "I must say, you are better at distraction maneuvers than I had dared to hope. I could have managed in a quarter of the time you bought me."
"We have kept our end of the bargain", Keldorn said. "Now what about the letter from our missing companion?"
"Imoen? Oh yes. I did promise that, didn't I?"
"If you made that whole story up…" Laska snarled.
Dekaras shook his head. "What a very suspicious mind you have", he said. "I like that. No, the letter is very real." Then he smirked at her. "When you get home, take a close look at your mailbox. Or rather, beneath it. The letter has been glued in place there all along. Safest place in the world for it, I knew you'd never search there."
The tattooed elf was quite beyond words now, and Minsc had to forcefully hold her back. "You…" she growled. "You…you sneaky…you mean we didn't have to go through all of that?"
Dekaras cocked his head to one side, giving her that infuriatingly non-noticing look once more. He was still looking very much amused. "A small jest, I much confess. Though it really cannot compare to the Icewind Dale entertainment. And now perhaps you will think twice before you attempt to bully my student again."
Dynaheir laughed then, a rich and happy laughter. "Oh, I must say that was really very entertaining, fremya. Whilst the two of you not join us? Let bygones be bygones?"
"Thank you, serya", the assassin said, bowing politely. "We are grateful for your kind invitation, but we really must be going. We have been away from home for too long already."
"Yes", Edwin agreed, pulling on his companion's sleeve. "Let's go home." He nodded briefly at Laska and her companions, and then turned to walk away. As he did, Laska could hear him speaking to the assassin, sounding very eager. "Did I tell you about those Cowled Wizards who terrorize all other magic users here, and who show up if you try to do some magic in the streets? Well, they probably carry all sorts of interesting magical scrolls and items, don't you think?"
The assassin put a companionable arm around the wizard's shoulder. "I'm sure they do, boy. I'm sure they do. What do you say to doing some…shopping…before heading east?"
Edwin smiled.
Once the adventurers got home Jan and Viconia immediately set to work removing the letter they discovered glued to the underside of the mailbox, just where Dekaras had promised they'd find it. Laska paid them no attention however. She was far too preoccupied with the beautiful sight that awaited her on the stairs of the mansion, in the form of a red-haired half-elf. "Laska!" Rose cried out, and then threw herself into the elf's arms, and Laska simply held her, breathing in the sweet scent that was so uniquely Rose. "Whatever have you been up to while I was at that boring seminar?" Rose asked and playfully kissed her lover's nose.
"Oh, this and that", Laska said with a big smile. "I'll tell you all about it later." Then she suddenly paused and took a step backwards. "Rose? Take a look at me, would you? Do you…notice something?"
The half-elf looked a little puzzled, but she obliged. "Is something wrong?" she asked. "You certainly look just as beautiful as I remember you." The appreciative warmth in her eyes spoke louder than words.
"Thank the gods", Laska muttered before she embraced her lover again. "It's still working after all…"
hr
