When your party members fight between themselves, it is occasionally a good idea to forcibly make them cooperate. If it works, it usually works great. Of course, you run the risk of them winding up killing each other. Or of them destroying the world as we know it, in my case.
Excerpt from Ruminations Of A Master Bard
It was very good to finally have a Witch again, Minsc thought. It filled an empty space within him, the Witch space, and made him feel like he did when he had a pleasantly full belly and was getting ready for sleep, except not sleepy. He was supposed to have a Witch, and it had been very worrying to have to do without one, even if Boo had of course always been there to tell him what to do.
The large ranger smiled happily as he watched his new Witch pouring through some old dusty papers that were apparently very important. Minsc wasn't sure why, but he wasn't about to question what his Witch told him even if he couldn't understand it all. Zaerini had said that finding the right papers would help them find the Evil Man who had made poor Jaheira look so sick, and that was good enough for Minsc. If this had been the forests of Rasheman, he knew that he could have tracked the Evil Man across barren rocks or icy fields, or over deep rivers, even without the aid of Boo's keen hamster nose, but this was not Rasheman. If tracking was done with papers here, then that was how it was, and he would leave it to those who understood such things.
So that was why they were in this place, the great Hall of Records in the Government District of Athkatla. The building was a sprawling marble monstrosity, filled with lots and lots and lots of papers, and lots and lots and lots of nervous little people. The nervous little people hadn't wanted to let Minsc's Witch see the many papers at first, but after Minsc had got angry with them they had changed their minds, which was a good thing.
Zaerini was sitting at a large table, absentmindedly twirling a lock of her red hair around her finger as she read, and Jaheira was opposite her, hunched down over a large and moldy old tome. The druid had a nasty cough now, and now and then Minsc could see his Witch giving the other woman a worried look. Minsc was worried too. He didn't like seeing people sick or hurt, even Evil people he tried to kill quickly, and Boo had told him that Jaheira wasn't getting better, but worse. At first, he didn't understand why she couldn't make herself better like she always did, but Boo had explained that it was a magic sickness, and that the Evil man was the one who had caused it. That had made Minsc very angry, but the Evil man wasn't here right now to get the butt-kicking he deserved, and so Minsc had to try to control himself, something that always made his head hurt, almost as badly as his old head wound. He hoped that his Witch would pick up this paper track soon, so they could do something where he could help better. But she was very smart, so he thought she would probably do it soon.
This made Minsc compare his current Witch with his previous one. Dynaheir had been smart too, but apart from that they were very different. Dynaheir was usually calm, and careful about how things ought to be done, and very proper. And she had never really learnt to appreciate Boo's greatness, something that had always saddened Minsc. Zaerini was hardly ever calm, and didn't care at all about what was proper, and always did things her own way, which was a confusing change, but not a bad one, since they were still doing Good, and that was what was important. And Zaerini did like Boo and didn't think he was at all 'unhygienic' whatever that meant. Minsc was a little bit worried about the pretty little cat that always followed his new Witch about though. He knew that cats liked to eat rodents, and he wouldn't want Boo to hurt his Witch's cat.
Yes, little Rini was going to be a Good Witch, Minsc decided. True, she had refused his suggestion of Bursting The Eardrums Of Evil With The Heroic Songs Of Goodness, saying that she wouldn't want to strain her voice, but she cared about her friends and did many nice things, more than she pretended to. That was what was important. It was a shame she also wanted to be friends with the Evil Wizard though.
Minsc frowned a little as he tried to puzzle through this. Dynaheir had been very clear on the subject of the Evil Wizards, and it confused him that his new Witch didn't seem to think like that at all. Quite the opposite in fact. It was confusing, and it was worrying, and he thought that maybe he ought to ask her about it soon. But in the meantime, he would follow his Witch's lead, as he always did. And he had at least been able to help with one very important thing already today. The little men who took care of all the books in this place hadn't wanted to let the adventurers inside to check the important books and scrolls that little Rini wanted to see, but once Minsc had carefully explained that they should be happy to help Heroes out to do Good they had soon changed their minds. Minsc was very sorry that he had happened to break that one man's arm though. He really hadn't meant to, but sometimes when he got excited, he forgot how strong he really was. He had made certain to say how sorry he was to the man after Jaheira healed him, and he thought the man had forgiven him. All the men who ran this place of books and papers had been very nice and polite afterwards, which was nice. He much preferred to get along with people.
Does that mean I should try to get along with the Evil Wizard as well? Dynaheir would not have liked that, but Dynaheir…isn't here any more.
Minsc felt very sad whenever he thought of Dynaheir, and now he could feel the tears trying to rise in his eyes again. Boo noticed something was wrong, and he could feel the soft hamster fur against his cheek as the little animal cuddled closer to him. Oh Boo, it was all my fault. I promised to protect her, but I failed. The Really Evil One killed poor Dynaheir and I…could only watch.
Boo squeaked encouragingly into his ear, and Minsc immediately felt a little calmer. "Yes, Boo," he whispered. "I know. We have a new Witch now, and we will do better this time. Minsc promises. We will keep her safe and not let the Really Evil One get her again and show him terrible Hamster Justice."
"Hmmm?" Zaerini said, looking up from her scroll. "Did you say something, Minsc?"
"Yes. Minsc has been thinking."
"Yes? What about?"
"Minsc knows that not all Witches are the same, and Minsc knows that he must do things like his Witch wants them done, even if it's strange."
The half-elf smiled warmly at him. "Minsc, you're not my slave. You're my friend. If you think I'm doing something strange, you have a right to ask me about it, you don't have to obey me blindly or anything, unless maybe if we're in a life threatening situation where I don't have the time to explain."
"Little Rini is nice to say so, but Minsc wants to do what his Witch wants. And if she wants him to be nice to the Evil Wizard, he will be, even if his belly churns at the thought of it, and he would rather spank the Evil Wizard ferociously like he deserves for his wickedness."
Minsc was very pleased to see that his Witch looked happy at this, her eyes shimmering brightly as they met his. Then she got up from the table and gave him a big hug, and he hugged her back, this time remembering to be careful. "Thank you, Minsc," Zaerini said. "That is very kind and generous of you, to do that for my sake. I know you and Edwin don't exactly get along, but I like you both, and it makes me very happy that you want to try. I'll make certain to try to make him behave himself as well."
"Minsc knows that little Rini is a Great Hero, but he would not ask the impossible."
The bard laughed. "I guess you're right. All right, I'll try to make him behave himself better. I know your countries are enemies, but we're all working together here, and right now you're both far from home, aren't you? Surely everything doesn't have to be the same here as it would there?"
Minsc thought about this. "Rasheman is far away…but once she has your heart, it belongs to her for always."
"I know. And I don't mean you have to forget that or stop loving your country. Learning new things doesn't mean you have to forget all the old ones, only the ones that no longer make sense."
This was a new thought, and a scary one. Old things no longer make sense? How could that be? Isn't something either true or false? How could it be true first and then false? But Aerie was like that, Good first and then Evil, so maybe other things could be as well. Boo will have to help figure out which ones. "Minsc will think more on this," the ranger says. "But not now, if he thinks too long, he will get another headache."
"Like the one I am currently having," Jaheira muttered. "While you have been discussing philosophy, I have been busy working. Listen to this." She pointed to a section in the scroll that she had been reading, and Zaerini walked over to interestedly lean across her shoulder. "It is a will," Jaheira said in a triumphant voice, and then had to break off due to another coughing fit. Once she could breathe again, she went on. "A copy of the will of one 'Albertina Ployer', the aunt of Baron Ployer himself. Apparently, she left him one significant piece of property, apart from gold. A tavern, by the name of 'The One Cup'. There is no address given, but it would not surprise me if we were to find it somewhere within the slums district. And when Ployer lost his fortune, there is no record of him having sold this tavern."
"The One Cup," Zaerini said, grinning with ferocious glee. "That would be the Ace of Cups from my Reading, I'd bet anything on it. And the Four of Coins – the inheritance. 'I came to Ployer from Ployer'. 'He sleeps against my bosom every night'. If that's where the creep is hiding, it all makes perfect sense."
"So it does," Jaheira agreed, and she was looking more pleased than she had since the curse had first struck her. "Of course, we still need to find the place."
"Minsc and Boo will find it!" Minsc promised, happy to once again understand something of what was going on. "We will find it, and break it, and SMASH THE EVIL MAN INTO TINY LITTLE EVIL BITS, AND THEN STOMP ON THEM!"
All over the great reading hall, nervous-looking people tried their best not to attract Minsc's attention.
Zaerini was still grinning as she headed for the exit. "Sounds like a working plan to me," she said. "But first, let's go see what the boys have found…"
At that exact moment, far away from Athkatla, a woman with brown braids neatly gathered around her head was sitting serenely on a marble bench in her gardens, pondering the words of the red-haired woman who had once again been to visit her this morning. There was much merit in what the other one said, certainly. Dangerous creatures such as the ones spoken of should not, could not be allowed to exist, to threaten the existence of all. Somebody would have to take steps.
And I believe I am called to be that somebody. I must make certain all these abominations are destroyed, like the dangerous pests they are.
The woman's eyes swept across the perfect, emerald-green lawn. How utterly smooth it was, every blade of grass cut just so, none of them sticking its head up above the others. The ones who had done so had already been carefully introduced to a scythe and a pair of pruning scissors. And so a ruler must act as well, carefully pruning out the disturbances for the greater good of all. Disobedience leads to disorder, disorder leads to chaos, chaos leads to anarchy, and anarchy leads to death. Thus, disobedience merits death, to protect every innocent soul put at risk from such acts.
The redheaded woman who came to visit had many interesting things to say, yes. But she could not be trusted. The woman in the garden knew this perfectly well, and her own intelligence network was now devoting a large part of its capacity towards finding out the other one's plans.
I do not doubt that she seeks power for herself, and thinks that I do so as well. How little she knows. I do not seek it out, it is my sacred duty, and I will not be swayed from it. I will use her aid for now, but my own influence is growing daily. The time will come when I will stand against her, as I was meant to do, and then the world will be as it should be, for the very first time. Clean, orderly, efficiently run.
A small groundhog suddenly burrowed up out of the pristine lawn, sniffing nervously as it looked around. A small frown appeared between the elegant eyebrows of the woman on the bench, and then she pointed her finger at the animal. There was no squeak, just a small puff of air as dust drifted and scattered where the groundhog had been moments before. Pests. Always these annoying pests, making nuisances of themselves. They will not be tolerated.
Edwin slowly gritted his teeth as he stalked through the narrow, winding and above all extremely dirty streets of the Athkatlan slums. I'm dead, he thought. I've died and gone to Hell, and my eternal punishment is being stuck with that posturing Helmite with a mace stuck up his rear, and that preposterous and annoying gnome.
The odd trio had set out together while Zaerini's group left for the Government District. Edwin had stared longingly after the red-haired bard, wishing that the day's working arrangements had been very different, and his mood didn't improve one bit by noticing that Anomen was doing the same thing. The slack-jawed oaf was practically panting. "You probably want to shut your fat mouth before the drool makes your ugly, clanking metal getup rust," he had pleasantly and politely informed the cleric as soon as Zaerini was out of hearing distance. "I'm certain your Order of the Most Pompous Farts probably has a few regulation-sized bibs in stock, for their members' convenience. And nappies as well, I shouldn't wonder. (I'm sure that persistent armor polish stench is meant as a cover up.)"
This little piece of helpful and altruistic advice hadn't gone over very well with Anomen, who had turned a dark red, bordering on purple. "How dare you speak to me such!" he had growled. "I have the highest regard and respect for the lady Zaerini, contrary to you. If you do not cease your foul and soiling glances, implying the darkest and most base of lusts, I shall not hesitate to send you mewling to your grave."
"Really, priest? If you do not give up the errant excursions of your ugly, bulging eyes into her cleavage, I will take great pleasure in making you drink a very dry 'Green Goblin', containing both your eyes impaled on toothpicks rather than the customary olives."
At this point, Jan had interfered, sounding extremely amused. "Now, now, Red," he had said, "I'm sure you wouldn't know, but a slice of turnip is actually far superior. And Ano, you want to remember to watch that flying spittle, I could have been drowned just now."
"Good," Anomen had muttered, and Edwin had been forced to agree, though he would have died rather than saying so out loud.
"This ought to be lots of fun, lads!" Jan said, nudging both the cleric and the wizard. "The three of us…alone on the road…facing mortal peril around every corner…and doing some heavy bonding." He sighed dreamily. "Won't that be lovely?"
I'd like to heavily bond them both. Preferably with a really large and sturdy length of chain, and down at the docks at some spot with really deep water and many crabs to clean up the evidence.
Irritatingly enough, Edwin was forced to realize that Jan knew the labyrinthine slum streets better than he did, or Anomen for that matter, and so the gnome took the point, chattering incessantly. "My," he was currently saying, "her Worship is one attractive lady, isn't she? Why, if she were only shorter, I wouldn't hesitate to court her. But come to think of it, why should I let that stand in the way of True Love? I'm sure the other gnomes will learn to accept her in time. Yes, I'll definitely have to ask her if she'd like to settle down with me and make our own little Turnip of Joy. She's still unattached, isn't she?" The fact that the mage and the priest glowered murderously at him didn't keep him from continuing. "You two boys can be my marriage witnesses if you like. But remember, I want only the best turnip juice for the wedding dinner, think you can remember that?"
"This…this is ridiculous!" Anomen sputtered. "The lady would never stoop so low!"
"Really?" Jan said. "You think? Well, in that case I suppose I'll have to use a stool…"
Edwin felt red rage churning in his blood, and when he spoke his voice was a low and deadly hiss. "Continue that sentence and you will find out firsthand what it feels like to have Skull Traps inserted into every possible bodily orifice."
"….to reach her hand in order to put the ring on her finger. What did you think I was talking about, Red?"
After this exchange, the search went on for some time, still fruitlessly. By now they had reached a small market square, encircled by ramshackle old shops with grimy windows. There were some stalls as well, but as far as Edwin could tell the most exciting items being sold were a few rather wrinkly potatoes sold by a fat halfling, and that was only because the mold growing on them looked like it might be harvested and turned into a flesh devouring monster. And I'd really like to have one of those right about now. A monster that is. Not a potato.
The three men were walking about the marketplace, trying to probe passing people for information about Ployer. Jan was chatting animatedly with everybody he met, probably telling inane stories. Anomen seemed to be demanding that 'The Villain be given up in the name of the Order'. So far he'd narrowly avoided getting a basket of fish dumped over his head, and he probably hadn't noticed yet that there was a note stuck to his back that said 'I forgot my brain at home today'. The cleric was looking proudly at all the smiles that greeted him wherever he went though.
Edwin sighed quietly, pulling up the hood of his robe to shield himself from the penetrating and glaringly white sunlight. So far, he hadn't had much success with his investigations. Unbidden, his hand went to the amulet hanging around his throat, as it often did when he felt under pressure. For some reason, touching the smooth surface of the dark red ruby always managed to soothe him a little, like a protective and calming presence. Perhaps it was part of the magic, but he had never been able to figure out exactly how the amulet did work, so he couldn't say for certain. Whatever the case, it did work, and he was already feeling better. It wasn't that he was all that concerned about Jaheira, but it was vitally important that he should be the one to find an important clue, not Jan, and certainly not Anomen. And then my Hellkitten will be extremely impressed, and the priest will be envious. Two very worthy goals.
Pleased with this thought, Edwin approached an elderly woman selling sweets. She was bent to a point where her pointy chin almost hit her knees when she walked, and she had a large and hairy wart on her long nose. The sweets looked nice, though. Some sort of gingerbread. "Greetings, peasant," he said. "Do you know the whereabouts of an ugly, loutish character by the name of Ployer?"
The woman's eyes narrowed a little, and she gave him a considering look. "Maybe I do, dearie. I might tell you – for a price."
"And what kind of price would this be? (A cure for that unsightly wart, perhaps. A Cone of Cold ought to fix that.) And stop calling me 'dearie'."
"Why, you're Thayvian, aren't you, dearie? And I have heard so many interesting rumors about Thayvian men, I'd like to see if they're true. So, here is the deal. You come play 'tickle the kitten' with me, and if you're good enough I'll tell you what I know and add in some of my best gingerbread for good measure." A pair of bony but strong fingers suddenly pinched the wizard's rear, making him jump. Worse, he could hear Anomen's annoying, snide laughter right behind him.
"It seems you have finally found your ideal match, wizard!" the priest said, snorting with amusement. "I'd say you two were made for each other."
"Silence, you idiot!" Edwin snapped, anger and embarrassment fighting for dominion over his emotions. "At least my erotic skills are in demand, unlike yours. You probably wouldn't even remember to take off your armor first, and if you did you would probably spend the entire time boring the woman in question to tears by reciting the tenets of Helm to her."
"You dare take the name of my God in your foul mouth? If not for my solemn promise to the Lady Zaerini I would strike you down where you stand!"
"I dare that and more, Helmite! I dare say your armor isn't the only thing you constantly polish, since only a blind or insane woman would want to take up with somebody who'd make them want to vomit at the first sight of his flabby body. (And I bet he makes the same pathetic little squeaking noises no matter which thing he is polishing.)"
"Flabby? FLABBY? I'll have you know that my body is perfect! I work out daily, unlike you, and every single muscle has achieved its ideal form!"
"Ha! I have the perfect male body without all that chimp-like grunting and sweating, but that is only to be expected since I am your superior in every way. (Come to think of it, a tapeworm would also be able to claim that.)"
"No need to fight, boys!" the old woman cackled. "I'm sturdy enough to handle both of you at once! You just look into my eyes and follow me…"
Edwin suddenly felt a soft, pink mist descending on his mind, and he felt his mouth opening in a sheepish grin as he stared at the lovely creature in front of him. How could he have failed to see that she was the most beautiful and compelling woman in the world? It was incomprehensible. Vaguely, he was aware of Anomen standing next to him, sporting the same stunned look on his face. And then they were walking, following the woman devotedly, and he felt as if he were floating on soft clouds. Already they had gone far enough into the dark maze of narrow streets that he couldn't possibly have hoped to find his way back on his own, but he was far beyond caring.
And then, the woman shrieked as a round object struck her in the head, spreading a small cloud of white powder. Then she froze in mid-motion, staring mindlessly at nothing. Edwin suddenly felt as if he had had a pail of icy water thrown over him, as he stared at the old hag, trying to comprehend what had happened.
"Really, boys," Jan's voice said from somewhere behind his back, "haven't you anything better to do than to fight over the ladies? Couldn't you take turns or something?" As Edwin turned around, he saw the gnome patting his odd crossbow affectionately. "But," Jan said, "a good Flasher is a safe cure for the lovestruck, I'll give you that! This here is Old Mrs Hook. They say she's a witch, but she does make the tastiest gingerbread, even though she's very conservative. I never was able to convince her to add turnips. If I'd known you two were that taken with her, I could have introduced you! It's odd the way the Cowlies never bother her, I think she may have seduced one or two of their bigwigs into leaving her alone."
Edwin felt a slow heat rising in his cheeks as he looked at the paralyzed woman. Taken in by a domination spell like some green apprentice…I'm so lucky Teacher Dekaras wasn't here to see that. Not to mention Zaerini.
Anomen seemed to have similar thoughts. "Er…" he muttered to Edwin. "Perhaps it would be better if we do not mention this particular little adventure to the Lady Zaerini, wouldn't you say?"
"Yes," the wizard said, nodding fervently. "No need to…make her worry."
"Aye. No man of chivalry would…would burden a lady with unnecessary concerns."
"But boys," Jan said, his eyes twinkling, "you disappoint me. I was so looking forward to telling her all about this, I think it would make for an excellent and humorous story. If you want me to forget that you're going to have to make it up to me."
"How?" Anomen asked.
"Well, this fellow I spoke to said that there's a small tavern somewhere close, known only to its steady customers, and he says that though the food stinks, the turnip beer is excellent! We'll go try it, your treat, and then we'll be rested and far more able to find Ployer."
"Yes, yes," Edwin said, feeling very irritated. "Just keep your mouth shut."
The trio soon reached the tavern in question, passing through a narrow and almost invisible cellar door. There was a tavern sign out front, but it was so smeared with dirt and grime that it was impossible to see the name of the place. However, beneath all that, and unbeknownst to Edwin, Jan or Anomen, there was a painting of a golden cup, as well as the words: 'The One Cup'. Had they been able to see this, they would probably have thought twice about walking into the place unprepared.