The Kiss of Life might sound like a promising way to get in close contact with your chosen mate, but there may be certain unforeseen complications. Trust me on this; these complications are not something you want to experience for yourself unless you're very kinky.
Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'
Edwin had clearly fallen asleep at his writing desk, hunched over a bunch of old parchments in a way that looked extremely painful on the back. Worse, his candle had burned clear down and was even now in the process of setting fire to the table next to him. It looked as if it might spread to his robe at any moment and the air of the room was heavy with black smoke.
"Edwin!" Zaerini screamed. When this didn't seem enough to wake the wizard up, she took a flying leap instead, tackling him to the floor and out of immediate harm's way. Then she scrambled to her feet again, looking wildly about the room. When she spotted a heavy blanket lying on the bed, she didn't hesitate to snatch it up and throw it over the smoldering table. It seemed to work. There was still smoke, but the flames had gone out. Her heart fluttering wildly, the half-elf once again went to her knees, shaking the unconscious man by the shoulders. At least he was breathing steadily, and he didn't seem to be burnt. That was something. Why won't he wake up though? Come on, Eddie! Talk to me!
"You…you stupid wizard!" Rini muttered as she tried to awaken the wizard by pinching his nose, then by gently rubbing his chest. It didn't seem to have any effect. "Falling asleep with a lit flame like that…do you want to get killed? Well, don't you think you'll be getting away from me that easily! I'm not done with you, not by a long shot. No way." She paused. Edwin looked rather pale, but apart from that… He's so good-looking…even better than I remembered. Maybe…maybe I should try the kiss of life.
He's already breathing, kitten, Softpaws said. The black cat had leapt onto the bed and was watching the proceedings, looking fascinated.
I know that! But…but maybe it wouldn't hurt to give him a little extra air. I'm sure he needs it. I'm only trying to think of his health you know.
Oh, of course. And I'm a Hell Hound.
There's no need to be like that. The bard drew a deep breath. Here goes. Let's do it now, before I have the time to regret this. She bent down, closer to the wizard's face. Closer…closer…almost there…
"Urrrrggggg…." Edwin groaned. Then his dark eyes suddenly flew open and a sickly greenish tinge spread across his face. And then there was a very loud sound, approximately 'BRRRAAAUUUURRRRPPP!' and a terrible stench filled the room.
Silence. Deep, deep silence. Zaerini looked down on her now completely ruined shirt. She looked up again, staring into the pale face of an utterly mortified Red Wizard. "Well," she said. "Thanks for that welcome. Looks like you were really happy to see me, Edwin. Ecstatic even."
"Um…" the wizard said. "Zaerini? Is that you?"
"No. It's my stinking, puke-covered, evil and very pissed off twin. I'm so happy to see you haven't lost your social skills entirely."
"Ha! It wasn't my fault!" Edwin had managed to pull himself into a sitting position now, and some of the old fire was back in his eyes. "Can I help it if your skills in the healing arts are so non-existent that you'd assault a sick man? (Next she'll be healing headaches with an axe.)"
"You'd be burnt to a crisp right now if it wasn't for me, and then you'd finally be some use! I could sell you as a street sign for 'The Burned Wizard' back in Beregost, and earn some money. Besides, it would shut you up."
"I'll have you know I'm very useful around here! Mae'Var trusts me implicitly, and I actually am very happy about this new and lucrative career! Or I was, until you waltzed in here and started assaulting me. (Of all the thieves guilds in all the cities in all of Faerun, she had to walk into this one.)"
The wizard sounded completely serious as he said this, but there was the smallest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth, one that he was probably unaware of himself. Gotcha, Eddie! Rini thought to herself, and allowed herself a small smirk of her own. You always were a terribly bad liar. "Whatever," she said. "Now, where do you keep your spare clothes? I need to change."
"Change?" Edwin practically squeaked. "What…what do you mean? Change? How? Now? Here?"
"Yes, Edwin. Since you managed to throw up all over me, I need to A) Wash off and B) Change my clothes. And unless you mean for me to do it downstairs in your employer's little cozy torture chamber, this seems like a perfect spot." She paused. "After you turn your back of course."
"Turn my back…"
"Unless you thought you could watch?"
"W-watch…."
Oh, sweet vengeance… "Didn't think so," the half-elf said in a decisive tone of voice, and then moved over to the dresser. "Are you going to be a gentleman and find me something, or do you want me to search through your underwear drawer?"
"NO! I…I mean…no. I'll find you something."
"Oh, good. You have something other than mage robes; I hope? Somehow I don't think the Red Wizards would appreciate me impersonating one of them."
Softpaws' silent chuckle echoed through her Mistress' brain. Kitten, you're doing very well. Keep him off-balance and play a little with him.
Oh, I don't want to embarrass him too much. Besides, if I did let him watch…I'd…I'd be pretty much embarrassed too. But he doesn't need to know that.
As it turned out, Edwin did have some other clothes at hand other than mage robes. After all, he needed to wear something beneath them. Zaerini washed off, whistling cheerfully to herself, and then she pulled on her borrowed shirt. High quality it was, if a bit worn, and very nice and soft. It was a bit large, reaching mid-thigh level, and gaped a bit at the throat, but it would do. Grinning to herself she silently walked over towards the door, and then swiftly pulled it open. Edwin fell into the room with a strangled cry of surprise. It seemed that he had been standing in a bent-over position, his eyes very close to the keyhole.
"Looking for something?" Rini sweetly asked him.
"Absolutely not! I…I was tying my shoe."
Zaerini looked down and carefully studied the wizard's shoes. Very nice they were, pointy, embroidered, colorful, stylish and completely lacking any form of laces. "Tying your shoe," she said in a neutral voice, arching a delicate red eyebrow. "I see."
"I…I wouldn't expect a barbarian like yourself to understand about the fine and intricate Thayvian craft of making…uh…invisible shoelaces for the sole use of superior and skilled wizards such as myself. They're very mysterious. Mysterious and powerful. Yes. That's it. (Phew. That ought to be enough to fool her.)"
"Uh-huh. Well, I guess you were so busy with your mysterious and powerful invisible shoelaces that you never noticed that I'd happened to hang my vest right across the keyhole. I'm glad you weren't bored."
"Edwin Odesseiron is never bored! With a magnificent mind like mine I am able to occupy my thoughts and entertain myself under any possible circumstances!" The wizard's eyes drifted towards the half-elf standing before him, paying particular attention to the way her collarbones and a hint of her pale shoulders showed in the overly large shirt. "That is…I…(By every ancient Zulkir's burnt bones, does she have to move about like that? How am I supposed to concentrate when she…oooohhh…)"
"If you say so," Rini said, taking the wizard by the arm and guiding him to a seat on the bed. As for herself she sat down on the chair, backwards so that she could lean her elbows and chin on the back of it. Before washing she had aired the room out, and though there was still a smell of smoke in the air, at least it was possible to breathe properly. "Now. Cut the crap and talk to me. Why did you run out on me back in Baldur's Gate? I'm not budging an inch from here until you tell me something."
Edwin squirmed uncomfortably on the bed, not meeting her eyes. "I told you. I left you that letter, or did you forget already? Is your poor, undeveloped monkey-brain unable to keep such things in mind for any longer than it takes you to locate your next banana?"
Rini felt familiar anger dangerously close to flaring up. Her face was growing hot, and she knew that her eyes were burning as wildly as those of Sarevok ever did.
He's trying to provoke you into changing the subject, Softpaws warned. The cat was busily washing her fur, and as she gave Edwin a pointed look, she proceeded to pay very close attention to her inner thigh. Don't let him. Ask him to help you do this instead. Her tongue performed a complicated corkscrew movement.
Softy!
What? It feels very nice. But if you insist on carrying out your entire courting ritual by shouting, by all means, be my guest.
"I know you left me a letter," Zaerini said in a low and dangerous voice. "One that said absolutely nothing, except that you 'had important business elsewhere' and 'could no longer spare the time' and 'didn't expect me to be able to understand'. And several other ridiculous phrases like that. I know that letter by heart. And do you know how I know?"
Edwin mutely shook his head, not meeting her eyes.
"Because I read it over and over again, trying to figure out why you would treat me like that, hurting my feelings like that. Especially since I thought we were…friends."
"Do you…still have that letter?" the Red Wizard asked, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant.
"No." His face fell a little. "No," Rini went on, getting to her feet. "I lost it." She stared out the window, telling herself that it was only the traces of smoke in the air that made her eyes blur. "I lost it when I was…when I was abducted and tortured for months by this insane wizard in a leather mask. And then…and then I lost Imoen too. The Cowled Wizards…they took her. I'm trying to find her, you know. And if you want to – I could really use your help. But only if you really want to. I didn't mean what I said before about one year's service. If you really want to go…I won't hold you to it." She bit her lip, trying to keep her face composed. "I only wanted an explanation."
She stared out the window, expecting him to ask her to leave. And then she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, gently turning her around, and he was standing close to her. So very close. The wizard's face was tense, but his dark eyes were alight with some deep emotion, something she couldn't quite fathom. "I…do not want to," he said. "Not anymore. I am still your…your friend." He voice was pained. "I cannot explain all of why I did as I did before. I am not the only one concerned. But you should know…part of it is that I am currently not on entirely friendly terms with the Red Wizards. It is not safe to be in my presence."
"Ha!" The half-elf smiled through her tears. "You're talking to a Child of Bhaal. Since when was my company ever safe for you?"
For a second or two Edwin looked completely flabbergasted. Then he smiled faintly. "Ah…would you know I never really thought of it that way?" Then his face suddenly set with anger, deep and murderous rage. "What was that you said just now? Abducted? Tortured? Who has dared…" He was holding her hands now, squeezing them so tightly it hurt a little.
Zaerini shook her head, reaching up to touch the wizard's lips with her fingertips. "Sssh…not now. I'll tell you all about it later." Her skin felt as if it were suddenly on fire. "Um…Edwin? Have you got something in your eyes?"
"Smoke," the Red Wizard said in a firm voice, blinking a little as he held onto her other hand. "It…it is still rather smoky in here, don't you think?"
"Yeah…smoky." And as they say…where there is smoke…there is fire. Yes…fire… There's still unfinished business, but it'll work out somehow. I know it will. "Want to go downstairs and be properly introduced to the others?"
"In a moment," Edwin said. He kept watching her face intently, studying it as if he had never seen it before. "I just need to be absolutely certain that you are no hallucination and will not suddenly turn into a half-orc with tusks as long as my fingers and the temper of a constipated dragon."
Zaerini laughed, a free, happy laughter. "Oh, Eddie…" she said. "I've missed you too."
Meanwhile…
"So, Aerie," Jan said, giving the Avariel a sly look. "Where's your little green cap?"
"M-my green cap?" Aerie asked, her voice hesitant. "I…I don't know…"
"You don't?" the gnome said. "And here I thought all priests of Baervan Wildwanderer were supposed to wear one, at least for services. I'm sure it'd look very fetching on you too, maybe it could become fashionable among other elves as well."
Aerie's mind was working fast. She'd been afraid of this. Posing as a cleric of a gnomish deity was all well and fine but having an actual gnome around to ask questions was not, and certainly not when he wasn't under her control. She could probably get away with being newly initiated up until a point, but she couldn't come across as totally ignorant. Curse that gnome! Is there no way to shut him up? "W-well…" she eventually said, shyly lowering her eyes. "I…I know I am a bit ignorant still…but Uncle Quayle spoke more of the faith as a…as a whole. Not so m-much about the higher rituals."
"And quite rightly too!" Jan agreed. The gnome was amusing himself with the lock picking training room that had been set up inside Mae'Var's guildhouse. Rows of doors lined the walls, each of them tightly locked with a lock of increasing difficulty, and each of them protecting a tiny alcove that held a few coins or small magical items that had been lost by those thieves who had previously tried and failed. So far Jan was winning. "What's in the heart is far more important than what's on the head, that's what I've always thought. In fact, that reminds me of a story."
Aaarrrghhh! Not again! Die, you stupid gnome! Die, die, DIE! "Wh-what story?" Aerie said, making herself smile sweetly. She desperately looked around to see if she might divert the gnome's attention to one of her other companions, but it didn't seem likely. Jaheira and Anomen were sitting at a table by themselves, not talking. Both of them were watching the stairs leading up to the third floor with almost identical scowls on their faces. Minsc was sitting next to her, but he was quite preoccupied with feeding Boo.
"Well," Jan said as he fiddled with yet another look. "It really concerns one of my cousins, Agraminta Jansen. She was obsessed with hats, you see. Had one for every day of the week, every hour of the day. Red, blue, yellow, purple, black, striped, plumed, you name it. She was fond of dressing up too, pretending to be things. She always said it'd make her famous one day."
"R-r-really?" For once Aerie's stutter was entirely genuine. Does he know? Or suspect? Have I slipped up somehow?
"Oh yes. She'd wear a cook's hat one day, a sailor's cap another, or maybe a beekeeper's veil. One day she made a bad mistake though. See, she thought she'd dress up as a moose, and she strapped a pair of antlers to her head, before skipping off into the forest, mooing happily."
"I…I didn't know that moose sounded like…"
"Well, I'm sure there's many things you don't know, missy. Green caps, remember? But anyway, there cousin Agraminta was, mooing happily and scrubbing her antlers against trees, happy as a tot in a turnip pie. And then – disaster!" Jan grinned widely as he said the last word, and Aerie found herself captivated despite herself.
"What…what happened?"
"She'd forgotten that the annual Amnian moose hunt began that day, I'm afraid. Suddenly she was faced with two dozen hunters, all armed with crossbows. 'No!' she called out. 'I am not a moose!' So, then they shot her of course, seeing how rare talking moose are." Jan scratched his beard as he used his other hand to disarm a nasty poison trap on one of the doors. "She was right though. She did get famous; her head is still mounted on the wall in the Great Hall of the Roenall estate. But it goes to show that antlers on your head won't do any good if you aren't a moose at heart."
"I…I see…" Aerie said, feeling as if her head was spinning. He knows! He has to! He's trying to…to provoke me somehow. Make me make a mistake. Well, I won't play by his rules! It's time for him to have a little 'accident' I think. "I…I think I'll just stretch my legs a little…" The Avariel retreated into the shadows near the wall, pretending to be indifferent to what was going on around her. Jan winked at her, and then went back to his traps. I have to do it now. He hasn't told anybody of his suspicions yet, if that is what they are, but it could happen at any moment. And even if he doesn't suspect he is still a threat. Yes, it has to happen now. Aerie gave the stairs leading to the third floor a brief look. She hoped Zaerini would be a few moments longer. What the girl had to say to the Odesseiron brat she didn't know, but she didn't like to be even this close to him. She had tried to remain downstairs, on the pretext of being frightened by the presence of so many wicked people, but Zaerini had flatly informed her that she didn't want the party split up and that she would be safer with the rest of them. I cannot afford to be spotted by Odesseiron. True, when last he saw me, he was a mere child, but the risk is still too great. And then there is that gods-damned assassin! This is just the sort of place where I'd expect to run into him, and he would know my face.
True, she wanted to confront her old enemies, but on her terms, and at a time of her choosing. This situation was not to her liking at all, but there seemed to be little she could do about it right now, except to be circumspect. Jan, on the other hand…I have to take the chance, now that I have a perfect opportunity.
Aerie let her hands slide into the sleeves of her robe so it wouldn't be obvious that she was casting her spell, and she took care to keep her voice down to a faint whisper. Loviatar would hear her and understand the need for secrecy. She could feel the divine power of her Mistress coursing through her, and it reached out for the trap Jan was working on. Carefully, carefully – and the trap went off with a loud bang. The blast hit the gnome full in the face and he was thrown to the ground, unconscious and with smoldering clothes.
Anomen hastily cluttered to his feet, Jaheira spit out an oath and did the same. But it was Aerie who reached the fallen gnome first, throwing herself on her knees next to him. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "How…how t-terrible! Wait, I will h-help him…oh my…" I'll help him all right. Help him into the afterlife, and hopefully it will be one with a permanent turnip famine. She reached out a hand towards the gnome's chest, preparing to cast her next spell. Just a little nudge…and his heart will stop forever. And then I'll weep, and cry, and impress everybody with what a sensitive soul I am to be able to mourn that annoying creature so deeply.
And then there was a shout of surprise coming from the top of the stairs, and the Avariel instinctively turned her head, before realizing her mistake in doing so. Zaerini was standing there, her hand on the railing, and it was she who had shouted. But that wasn't the worst part. There was a man standing right next to her, a tall, dark man with a neat beard and a hideous dangling chain hanging from his nose. He was wearing blood red mage robes, and he was staring straight into her eyes. He certainly had grown a great deal taller since last she saw him, and she was fairly certain that his guardian wouldn't have approved of that nose ring, but Aerie didn't doubt his identity for one second. And judging by the look of intermingled hate and fear on his face, he certainly recognized her as well. Perhaps seeing her bent down over a prone body had helped him along.
"You!" Edwin said, practically spitting out the word.
Aerie decided to waste no time with words or challenges, seeing that her cover was already destroyed. Snarling with fury she leapt to her feet, already moving her hands in the graceful patterns necessary to cast a spell. Loviatar, aid me now! All is not yet lost. I may slay them still, and even should I fail in that, my escape will grant me the opportunity to strike at them another day.
A spray of intense cold and ice shot out from her fingertips like a fan, narrowly missing the Red Wizard as he threw himself against the side of the railing, pulling the surprised Zaerini with him. There was no more time to launch another attack. Minsc was still looking utterly confused at this unexpected turn of events, but Jaheria was coming for her. The druid's green eyes had narrowed to mere slits, and her face was hard as she approached, quarterstaff ready. Anomen seemed almost as baffled as Minsc for a second, but then he took a closer look at the now frozen and splintered part of the wall that had been hit by Aerie's spell and apparently came to a conclusion. Lifting his mace, he followed Jaheira's example, heading for the Avariel, and he looked furious enough to go into a berserker rage.
No more time, Aerie thought. I am outnumbered and have lost the element of surprise. Cursing inwardly she twisted a slender ring on her finger, its spell of invisibility immediately cloaking her from sight. Before either of the other clerics had the time to counteract her spell, she had already slipped down the stairs, escaping Mae'Var's guild and was heading into the dark streets of the Docks. You have won this time, she thought. But you are mistaken if you think I will give up so easily. I may no longer be able to strike from close by, but there are other ways. She thought about one such way, an alternative plan she had formulated when she was still with the circus and had chanced to notice a person who stood out from the crowd in more ways than one. Yes. It might take some time, but that will do nicely. Now to figure out a way to make contact, and to gather some useful thralls…that last bit shouldn't prove too difficult. I may have been unlucky just now, but I still have my touch.
Aerie smiled faintly to herself, her blue eyes glittering with dark amusement. Yes, I will enjoy this very much. This minor setback will only serve to make my final victory all the sweeter. And I will savor their pain for the glory of my Mistress.
At about the same time that these events were taking place, Yoshimo was also out and about, making his way across the vast Athkatlan Graveyard District. The silent abodes of the dead were all around, with fine tendrils of mist drifting between the tombs and headstones, but he paid them little mind. It was by far more sensible to worry about the residents of said tombs. His mission had failed, at least for now, and he knew that neither of his employers would be pleased to hear that. The best he could hope for would be to be left alive and whole afterwards.
How could I ever allow myself to wind up in this position? I, Yoshimo. The clever one, the one with the constant jokes and the witty words, the one who sets traps for others. But now I am the one trapped.
It had seemed so simple and logical at first. Vengeance. Surely one of the most primal urges in a person, and a very understandable one. Tamoko…sister. What would you think of this? Once I would have thought you would approve of my actions, but now I am no longer certain. Things have changed.
His sister. His brave, loving, clever, foolish sister, who had sought love and found death. Death at the hands of a Bhaalspawn, as she fought for her lover Sarevok. That was what the people spoke of her now. Though not all of them used so kind words as that. Yoshimo had taken it upon himself to correct the ones who did not, and teach them proper courtesy, in a very permanent manner. He had not been able to find his sister though.
Her body…still buried beneath that dark temple, her spirit lost, adrift. And so, I vowed to find her slayer, and avenge her. Any aid would be welcome to achieve that goal I thought. But that was before I learnt what I know now of my employers, and of my target.
I liked her. Tamoko, forgive me. I cannot hate her any longer. Not even for you.
I would have betrayed her though, had I got the chance. But now…what will those two say now? Surely…surely they must understand that there is nothing more I can do?
Yoshimo shivered briefly as he approached a particular tomb. This one was much larger than the surrounding ones, with marble pillars and a pointed roof, and with marble statues of cloaked and helmeted knights standing guard like silent sentinels outside. Surely I must be able to explain?
As the bounty hunter looked up, he saw that the moon was out by now, hanging low and yellow over the city of the dead. The swift and erratically moving shape of a large bat flickered across it, eyes glowing red with hunger. It was followed by another one, and yet another.
Trapped like a poor mouse with only one way left to run. Tamoko…what will I do now?
Black and humanoid shapes emerged from the deep shadows between the tombs, beckoning him forth. Yoshimo bowed briefly and followed his escorts into the awaiting darkness.