My foster father was both wise and powerful, and as a child I believed him omnipotent, nearly a divinity. Being made to realize that death might claim even him hurt more than I had ever thought possible. And being forced to grow up and shoulder unfamiliar responsibilities…that can also be very painful, necessary as it is.
Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'
"Wh-what was th-that?!" Khalid exclaimed. The creature that had flown over the adventurers was large, with a long and barbed tail, and a head that seemed mostly made up of sharp teeth. It was carrying a cow in its claws, as easily as if the poor animal had been a kitten.
"That", Edwin said, craning his neck backwards, "was a wyvern, unless I'm very much mistaken. Smaller than a dragon, no fore legs, very poisonous. Could probably swallow you whole. Do I need to go on?"
"Coran wanted us to hunt those things?" Imoen said. "He must have been crazy. Rini, you aren't thinking of going after it, are you?"
The bard shook her head, red curl dancing in the chill wind. "That was Coran's idea, not mine. We have more important things to do."
"Quite so", Jaheira said approvingly. "The Cloakwood mines await."
"Pity though", Edwin sighed. "There was supposed to be a reward for wyvern heads."
"Do you want to drag around a huge, smelly old wyvern head with you for several days?" Rini asked him. "You would get to be the one to carry it, you know."
"On second thought, maybe not", the Red Wizard agreed. "On a different subject, how did your Reading go yesterday? You never said."
Zaerini frowned. "I'm not sure", she admitted. "The tricky part is always interpreting what I see." She pulled the wizard slightly aside from the others. "I would like to go over it with you, if you don't mind. You might be able to help me make some sense of it all. Two heads are better than one sometimes."
"Certainly. It is only natural that you should ask. Though I'm not trained in divination, I shall be pleased to place my superior intellect at your disposal."
"That's nice. All right, here's the first." The bard described the first pair of cards, the Priest of Clubs and the Prisoner. "So, what do you think?"
Edwin shrugged. "It's all very vague, isn't it?" he said. "Somebody is imprisoned, and we are likely to encounter a priest at some point. From your description it sounds like it would be beneficial to aid whoever it is, but since we don't know when it will happen, we can only keep our eyes open." He gave the half-elf a serious look. "The other half is much more unsettling, the part about the Devil. Sarevok was bad enough, but obviously he is not the only one who means you harm. And you have no idea who this other one might be?"
"None whatsoever. I don't exactly like it either, but I don't think that there anything I can do other than try to be careful." She went on to describe the Water card.
"It sounds like some sort of catastrophe", Edwin pondered. "A flood perhaps? Or a shipwreck? Does that make any sense?"
"Not really. Candlekeep lies by the sea, there have been shipwrecks there, but nothing that I can see concerns me. Besides, it sounded more like I was the one meant to bring the water, if you see what I mean. I think you're right though. It did give me the impression of a flood. I'll have to remember that." The half-elf went on to describe the second part of the Reading, the one with the Wizard of Swords and the Rogue. To her surprise Edwin turned quite white in the face and looked like he had seen a ghost. He recovered quickly, but he couldn't keep her from noticing. When he spoke again, he asked her to describe exactly what the two beings had said, word for word, and when she couldn't quite remember everything, he grew very frustrated and agitated.
"But I must know!" he protested. "It is extremely important if I am to understand this. It…it all sounds terribly dangerous. (What's going on? Why wasn't I told? Suppose…no. Mustn't think like that. Must have faith.)"
"Well, I'm sorry, but I can't do better than that! So, what's your opinion?"
Edwin bit his lip and when he answered he did so very slowly. "I…I would advise you to be very careful and do your best to avoid those two, whoever they are. Not that I expect you to listen to me and try to avoid heading into danger. (No more than certain other people, I might add. Why does this all have to happen to me?)"
What's eating him? Rini thought. The wizard looked extremely worried, but he would say nothing more on the subject, so she went on to describe the third and last part of the Reading. "I think I know what it means", she said in a low voice. "Ever hear of Durlag's Tower?"
Edwin nodded, looking a little calmer. "Yes", he said. "And I agree, it sounds like a reasonable interpretation. You expect us to go there, then?"
"So it seems. I don't know when, but the Reading was pretty clear. If I don't go to Durlag's Tower I will die." She gave the wizard a wry grin. "Of course, going to Durlag's Tower is equally likely to kill me, isn't it?"
"It will not", Edwin said, his face set with grim resolution. "I will not let it. I will let no harm come to you. (Not to…either of you. No matter what I have to do to achieve it.)"
"What was that?" Rini said, since she hadn't caught the last part, uttered in an inaudible whisper as it was.
"Nothing. I…simply stated that under my…contract to serve you I am obliged to do what I can to protect your interests. That was all. Yes. That's all it was."
"Oh. Thank you. I have a feeling I'm going to need all the help I can get. After all, there's still Sarevok to deal with…" The bard suddenly shaded her golden eyes with her hand. "Look! See that? Doesn't it look like a palisade? Over there, on the other side of that river." She smiled widely. "Durlag's Tower will just have to wait a little while longer. It looks like we've come across the Cloakwood Mines."
The entrance to the mines as well as the camp surrounding it was surrounded not only by the river but also by a large palisade with very pointy wooden poles. Climbing over it didn't really seem to be an option.
"I'm sure I could do it!" Imoen said. "It's a very daring and roguish thing to do, isn't it? Swim the river, climb the palisade, then sneak silently past all the guards and let the rest of you guys in."
"Forget it", Jaheira said. "It is much too dangerous."
"And breaking down the front gate isn't? Come on, I can do it, really, I can. I've become really good at this sort of thing. Tell her Rini!"
"I don't know", the bard said, eyeing the palisade suspiciously. "Won't they see you when you're climbing?"
Imoen grinned. "Not if I'm using a potion of invisibility, they won't. Trust me. I can do this."
"Well…all right. If you're really sure you can do it. And if it turns out to be too difficult a climb, come right back. I don't want you to get skewered."
"Sure!" Imoen said. "Won't be long…" She handed her leather armor and boots to Jaheira in order to be able to swim easier and skipped down towards the water, winking out of sight just before stepping into it.
Rini watched the water carefully, keeping track of the little waves that marked her friend's passage until she was certain Imoen was safely across. "Come on then", she said. "We'd better hurry around to the front gate, just in case something goes wrong."
There were two bandits on the narrow wooden bridge leading across the river, both of them easily handled. The adventurers looked at the massive wooden gate in front of them. It was thick, solid and very, very locked.
"J-just a question", Khalid said. "I-in case Imoen doesn't get the d-door open from inside…how a-are we supposed to get i-inside to help her?"
Zaerini couldn't help but admit that it was a reasonable question. None of them could pick a lock like Imoen could, and none of them were strong enough to bash this monster of a door open. "Well…I'm sure we'll think of something", she said.
"Yes", Edwin said sarcastically. "Maybe we can just call out 'Friends!' and the guards will open the door for us."
"Maybe we can just use your head to knock the door open. Wood on wood, that ought to work."
Creeeaaaak… The door slowly swung open and Imoen's pink head peaked around it. "Oh, hi there, guys!" she said. "Are you coming in or what?" As they stepped through the door Zaerini spotted a dead bandit lying face down on the ground. "Yours?" she asked her friend.
Imoen looked a little sad for a moment. "Yeah", she said. "See, I'd filched the keys already, but the door was barred, and he was guarding it and wouldn't go away. Wish I hadn't had to do that." Her face brightened again. "But on the other hand, I got to use this really nifty new move I learnt from Adahn!" She made a quick stab at the air. "See? Works like magic! I don't think he even had time to feel pain."
"Child", Jaheira said, "you are starting to frighten me."
"Oh, come on", Rini said. "It's no worse than killing somebody in a swordfight, or frying them with a fireball, or…"
"Or ripping their bellies open and strangling them with their own guts", said a harsh voice. "Which, incidentally, is exactly what we're about to do with you lot." A group of four mercenaries, two warriors and two wizards, stepped out from behind one of the log cabins that lay just inside the palisade. It was one of the warriors who had spoken, a heavyset man with a hard face. "You've crossed our employers, and this is as far as you're going to go my friend. Should've known that lazy bounty hunting rabble wouldn't get the job done. Never settle for second best, I always say!"
Oh, just great! Even more assassins! Will it never end? "You want to know what I always say?", Rini remarked in her most bored voice. "'Always kill the mouthy one', that's what I always say."
The man grinned at her, a gold tooth winking brightly in the sunshine. "HAW! A good saying! I will use your head for a puppet and make it say it over and over while we drink large amounts of mead! Life is pretty good, you know?"
We'll see who uses whose head for a puppet, jerk. Zaerini didn't wait for the mercenary to give the order to attack. A brilliantly glowing fireball sped from her outstretched fingers and landed in the middle of the enemy group, followed by one from Edwin. The two enemy mages died screaming, their bodies twisted and charred. Whatever spell scrolls they had been carrying burned as well, sending up puffs of colored smoke and glittering sparks. The two warriors kept coming though, and the leader was fast, much faster than an ordinary man. Before Rini had the time to cast another spell or even draw her sword he was already upon her, and only her quick reflexes saved her from a beheading. As it was, she received a nasty cut across her shoulder and was forced to dive to the ground in order to avoid the follow up strike, bleeding profusely.
Then Khalid and Jaheira were there, standing over her while the preternaturally quick warrior rained blows down upon them that they only barely managed to block with their shields. Vaguely Rini glimpsed the other one fall out of the corner of her eye, one of Imoen's arrows firmly lodged in his throat. She could hear Edwin chant another spell, his voice rising and falling rhythmically. Hey, I know that one! That's…
The world slowed down around her. A bird in the sky seemed to be creeping along like a snail. The trees moved in the wind, slowly, like seaweed in an oceanic forest. And Khalid and Jaheira met the mercenary's attacks, driving him back with a speed that now easily matched and even topped his own. Finally, he fell, still with a very surprised look on his face.
"That w-was a spell of H-Haste, wasn't i-it?" Zaerini heard Khalid say over Jaheira's annoyed mutterings as the druid examined her wound. "V-very clever."
"Naturally", Edwin impatiently said. He was hovering nervously over Jaheira's shoulder, trying to watch what she was doing. "I am the brain of this group after all. (Well, one of two at least.) Druid, I trust you're not going to botch this. I would be most upset if our leader came out of this in less than perfect condition."
"Go away, Edwin", Jaheira snapped. "You are bothering me. Just let me do my work in peace. Stop fussing."
"I'm not! I…I just don't want to see our resident Queen needlessly sacrificed because some pawn of a healer blundered. A perfectly natural, objective concern. Yes. Perfectly natural. And objective."
"Edwin, I am warning you…"
"No. I'm staying right here."
"That does it", Jaheira said. Her smile turned wicked. "I suggest you step aside right this moment. If I am to heal this wound properly and without scarring, I will need to access it fully so I can see what I am doing. Which means that I shall be forced to ask our Fearless Leader to partially undress. I think you can guess which parts."
Edwin's eyes seemed about to pop out of his face and his cheeks turned bright red. "Uuuh…", he said. "I…that is…I m-mean…I…"
"Exactly. Very well put. Khalid, would you please get him out of here?" The half-elven warrior gently led Edwin away by the arm. The wizard still seemed to have problems speaking properly. And breathing, for that matter.
"Did you really have to get me to strip?" Rini asked once she felt the first healing spell wash over her like warm rain. "The air is rather cold you know."
Jaheira's wink was almost imperceptible. "Perhaps", she said. "Perhaps not. Either way it worked. It got me the necessary peace and quiet at least. She chuckled to herself. "Objective concern indeed."
Terrible anxiety was eating away at him, gnawing constantly at his heart. Edwin tried his very best to ignore it but found it quite impossible to do so. He walked through the tunnels of the Cloakwood Mines like a man in a trance, his mind divided into two halves. Only one of them was paying attention to his current surroundings, just barely managing to keep him from tripping over his own feet or walking into walls. The other was far away, trying to penetrate rock and stone and fly across the miles that separated it from the city of Baldur's Gate. This half was even less successful than its twin, if possible.
The party had entered the mines earlier that day, after liberating the dead mercenary leader who had been guarding the entrance of a very nice pair of enchanted boots. They made their wearer able to outpace a running hare with ease. Khalid was now wearing them; Zaerini had decided that they would best benefit the warrior since they would help him rapidly close with the enemy. Edwin privately suspected that Khalid's gratitude had more to do with the fact that they would help him run away from the enemy. Not that he really needs any help with that, I think.
Zaerini had cast a simple divination spell on the boots, and then had explained that they were called 'the Paws of the Cheetah'. Apparently, they had once belonged to a skilled assassin who was fond of chasing after his prey on foot. "But in the end", the bard had said, "I guess somebody must have caught up with him, or the boots wouldn't be here in the first place."
Edwin shivered and tried to tell himself that it was all due to the chilly air down here in the dark tunnels. He knew perfectly well that he was lying to himself though. Much as he tried to avoid it, his thoughts were incessantly occupied with the current whereabouts of another assassin, as well as with the probably life-threatening hazards facing said person. It did nothing for his peace of mind. No, I have to stop obsessing over it. It's…it's not as if I can do anything to help right now anyway.
But telling himself to be reasonable didn't work at all. The dreadful worry he had been feeling for his friend and mentor ever since hearing the details of Zaerini's latest Reading was eating him alive. What is he doing, pitting himself against some hideously dangerous wizard? Then he paused to consider that his teacher was, after all, rather hideously dangerous himself. Well, maybe so. But still…
Edwin sighed deeply. This sort of thing was so much easier to put up with when I was still a child. I hardly ever worried then, I knew that he could handle anything and that everything would be all right. But now…it's different. True, he probably can handle just about anything but…he's still mortal, isn't he? I never used to think about that back then. He sighed again, gaining himself a curious glance from Imoen who was walking closest to him, and he hardly noticed it. If…if he should ever die, I don't know what I'd…NO! The thought was too hideous to even contemplate, and it made him feel physically ill as he struggled to push it aside. He won't die, he can't! I…I won't stand for it. But that wizard in the Reading, he is a threat. A very dangerous threat, I just know it.
The wizard shivered again as he contemplated his mentor's tendency to calmly walk into figurative viper pits with the goal of tying all the deadly beasts into knots. Why does he always have to do things like this? And he calls me reckless! Ha! That's a laugh! When I do something really dangerous it's usually because I haven't thought things through. But he always thinks things through, and then he goes and puts himself in mortal peril anyway, because he thinks it's the logical thing to do. And if I ask him about it, he'll just give me that look and tell me that he's got everything under control. Well, he always does. But he always works with such narrow margins. It wouldn't take much of a slip to…NO! Mustn't think of it, mustn't think of it…
The party moved on through the mines. The tunnels resembled those in Nashkel, but something was quite different. The workers in Nashkel had been terrified of the threat from below, but they had been free men, mostly healthy and well fed. In the Cloakwood mines, slaves did the work. Sad emaciated shapes shuffled here and there, closely watched by brutal guards carrying whips and clubs. The slaves were thin and dirty, their eyes dull and lifeless from all the brutality they had suffered. One of them was coughing up blood, sounding like his lungs were about to hit the walls as well. Edwin felt a growing sense of unease. Slaves were common in Thay, of course. But this…this was so senseless. Such a waste. Why would anybody waste their slaves by treating them like this? Unless he's very, very sure that he can get as many as he likes. It wasn't a pleasant thought. The wizard noticed his companions' growing anger and revulsion as they passed by more suffering slaves, killing one of the armed guards now and then when they had to. It reminded him of something else as well.
Teacher Dekaras wouldn't have approved either. He never did like slavery. I…I suppose I can guess why. I remember now he once told me that he had once thought to leave Thay because of it, before I was even born. He never did tell me why he changed his mind though. But I could tell that he really hated the way things were. I always used to wonder how he was able to put up with it when he disliked it so much. But I never dared ask. I think I was afraid he might actually leave after all, if I reminded him.
Edwin was drawn out of his reverie as he almost bumped into Jaheira's back. It seemed the others had stopped for some reason. Fighting to pull his thoughts together he heard Zaerini speaking with yet another slave. But this man was different, still with some will and pride left. Once he was certain that the adventurers were enemies of the Iron Throne, he was only too happy to help them.
"This mine once belonged to a dwarven clan", the slave explained. "They accidentally broke through into the river, and there was a great flood where most of them drowned. The Iron Throne patched the hole up when they reopened the mine, but it would be possible to bring the water back. There is a plug in the hole, locked in place so that it cannot be removed. The key is kept by Davaeorn. He's the wizard who's in charge of this operation, and he stays down at the bottom of the mine. If you could get the key from him and bring it here, I could help you remove the plug and flood the mine once more, causing the Iron Throne a great deal of harm."
"A flood…" Zaerini said, her golden eyes glowing eagerly in the darkness. "Yes. That does sound like an excellent plan. Almost…as if it were fated to be." She smiled faintly.
Her Reading! Edwin thought. It's…it's coming true already. The flood, she foresaw it. And if that part is true…does that not mean that…that the rest must be true as well?
"One thing though", the slave added. You must promise to help get the other slaves out first. On the level before this one you will find Rill, in one of the dark cells. He is the one who comes closest to being our leader. Free him, then he'll help free the rest of us."
"It is agreed", the bard said, shaking the man's hand. "I promise you that you will all be free if it is at all within my power to make it so."
The man had actual tears in his eyes by now. "I trust you", he said. "I will pray for your success – and for you."
It was another hour before the adventurers found the staircase leading deeper into the mine, and by that time they were all exhausted.
"I'm gettin' a little sleepy", Imoen said. "How about some rest now, Rini?"
The half-elf sighed slightly. "I suppose we have to", she said. "I don't really like the thought of sleeping in here though."
"Don't worry, I'll find us a safe spot. Just wait for me here." The young thief melted into the surrounding shadows and moved off. She has been getting much better at that, Edwin thought. Much, much better.
When Imoen returned a short while later she looked very pleased with herself and proudly declared that she had found them a perfect spot to rest, an out of the way dead-end tunnel that didn't look like it had been used in a long time. Once Edwin had set up an illusion spell that would make any passing guards see nothing but a blank wall, they were all set to rest. It was a long time before the wizard fell asleep though. And once he did, his dreams were anything but restful. They did start out pleasantly enough though… Yes. Safe…so safe…
The young wolf cub yawned noisily; his mind still drowsy with sleep. Something had awakened him; he knew not what. It didn't matter. He was safe and warm, his belly full. Yawning once again with a sort of muffled, yipping sound, he nestled up against the thick fur of his companion. The great black wolf was lying with his muzzle resting against his forepaws, seemingly deep in thought about something. As he noticed the cub stirring, he raised his head, giving the young one an amused and affectionate glance. The cub felt even happier at this. The den was snug and comfortable, he was loved and protected. Everything was as it should be. It was as simple as that. He did, however, feel the urge to play, now that he was awake anyway. With mock ferociousness he stalked about the den on short legs, pouncing on imaginary prey, pretending to be as great a hunter as his companion. The black wolf looked on approvingly. He was obviously pleased, and this made the cub happier yet and made his tail wag so rapidly that it was a wonder he didn't take flight.
Emboldened by this the cub now set his sights on greater, more dangerous prey. Stalking low against the ground, his belly scraping against the dirt floor of the den, he stared at the adult wolf's bushy tail with wide and unblinking eyes. The black didn't seem to be noticing. Closer. Closer. Just a little closer and he'd be able to pounce… And then the black wolf twisted around, giving the cub a very meaningful stare. The cub pulled himself to a screeching halt just as he were about to spring, skidded along the floor as he tripped over his own paws and landed between the adult's huge paws, grinning rather sheepishly. The black sighed with something akin to fond exasperation. With a small yip of excitement, the cub started chasing his own tail instead, until he'd eventually made himself dizzy enough that he fell over. Scrambling to his feet once more he climbed onto the broad back of the adult wolf who had lain down again. The large animal suffered the cub's nipping and his flailing paws patiently for the most part, only growling slightly now and then to let him know when he got too rough.
And then there was a sound, far away in the distance. The deep, booming sound of a hunter's horn. The wolf cub ceased his play, suddenly afraid. The great black stood, alert, listening. Then he gently pushed the cub further into the den and slipped out through the entry hole like a living shadow. The cub waited, anxious but not really afraid. Everything would be all right. After some time, the black wolf returned, snow clinging to his fur, his muzzle wet with blood. Obviously, he had come across one of the hunters. But there were more horns in the distance, many more, and the cub suddenly knew that this den no longer was safe. The black had apparently come to the same conclusion. Jaws capable of easily crushing bone lifted the cub carefully, fangs that could tear the throat of a man open in seconds never even so much as scratching the young one's skin. Then the large black wolf moved, swiftly bounding out of the den and into the raging snowstorm outside, as the horns sounded ever louder. The cub wasn't afraid. They were together, and that meant everything would be all right.
No longer a wolf cub, but a small boy, he was resting once more, in another den. The child sighed with content as he buried his cold hands in thick, black fur, pressing close to the great wolf beside him. He was safe once again, his friend and protector nearby. "I knew you'd take care of those nasty old hunters", he whispered softly, wrapping a thin arm around the large animal's neck. It didn't even reach halfway around it. "You can do anything, can't you?" The black wolf turned his head to look the child in the eyes, calm and confident. "You know something?" the boy said in a conversational tone. "Sometimes I wish I were a wolf too. Then I could really be yours. Wouldn't that be nice?"
The wolf looked at the boy, and there seemed to be a shadow passing behind the luminous eyes, a dark shadow of sadness. "I…I'm sorry", the child said. "If you don't want me to…"
The wolf snorted quietly and gave him a highly impatient look, one that stated louder than words that he was being ridiculous in doubting that he was wanted. The child's face brightened. "Oh. All right then. Then I think I'll go on pretending it. It's nice to pretend sometimes." The wolf nodded briefly, his tail slowly sweeping against the floor in what might almost have been called a wag.
Horns again, loud and threatening, and closer this time. The black wolf instantly leapt to his feet, snarling, smelling the air. Once again, he disappeared into the raging storm, once again he returned, with snow and fresh blood on his coat. But this time he was also favoring his left foreleg slightly, and the boy could see that it was bleeding. The sight terrified him to the core. "No!" he breathed. "No! You can't be hurt! You mustn't! That's not right!"
The wolf made an impatient whuffing noise and nudged the child in the side, indicating for him to climb onto the animal's powerful back. "But I can't do that. Not if you're hurt. You'll hurt more!" A very soft growl warned him not to protest anymore. The horns were still coming closer. In the end the boy did as he was bid, clinging tightly to the large wolf's back as the beast sprang from the hidden den. There were some trails of blood in the snow that he could see, but more snow swiftly covered them, and the wolf certainly seemed capable of coping, despite a slight limp. The horns were growing more distant. Besides, we are together. As long as we are together everything will be all right.
Another change of scenery, and he was grown up again. Edwin's breathing was rapid, as he looked about himself, finding himself in yet another wolf den. The large black wolf was sitting close by his side, snow still clinging to his fur. The animal's long tongue was visible as he panted, obviously still tired out from the run. The wizard stroked the wolf's thick fur, checking for injuries, and winced when he saw that the wound was deeper than he had first thought. The wolf glared at him and pulled his leg away, looking somewhat insulted. "I'm sorry", Edwin said, not really knowing what he was apologizing for. "I just…worry. That's all. Please try to understand." The animal gave him a cool look, but allowed himself to be fussed over, at least for a few minutes.
Then the horns sounded again, and this time they were closer than they had ever been. The wolf got to his feet, but this time he looked weary, and the open wound was still dripping blood. If he goes to face them like that he will die, a voice spoke in Edwin's mind, and he knew it for his own. You are the only one who can prevent that.
How? How can I prevent it? Why are you doing this to me? I thought Ulcaster would only send one of these dreams.
Well, you needed more than that. He set up a sort of…connection for you. You will need it from time to time, in order to keep track of those closest to your heart.
But I…
Hurry now. He's going, see? This time you need to keep him safe.
The black wolf was walking towards the exit of the den, still limping. The wound was bleeding more now. "No!" Edwin said, planting himself firmly in the way of the animal. "This time, I should be the one to go."
The wolf gave him an annoyed look.
"I mean it. You're hurt. You could get killed."
The wolf was ignoring him, clearly disgusted at the very idea of being coddled. And then Edwin knew what he must do. "Then…then at least let me help", he said. "You go one way; I'll go the other. That will make it more difficult for them, won't it?" He hoped the lie sounded convincing enough. Forgive me. I have to do this. I…I have to.
The wolf paused, considering.
"Go", the wizard said eagerly. "Go! I'm coming, I'm right behind you." The black wolf nodded once, briefly. Then he was off, disappearing into the storm in the direction that Edwin had pointed out. The wizard made no move to follow, however. Instead he turned and headed the other way, towards the approaching hunters.
He's gone, Edwin thought, tears freezing to drops of ice on his cheeks. He's really gone. I'm alone. And nothing will be all right. Not ever again.
The horns were coming closer as the snow whipped painfully against his face. They were almost upon him now, and from far in the distance he could hear the mournful howl of a wolf.
There was a strong eastern wind blowing that day. It tugged playfully at the banners streaming atop the highest tower of the Iron Throne building, making them dance in the air. It crept stealthily into Sarevok's private chambers through the open window, overturning the pages of the diary he was writing in as if it were reading it. The warrior grunted with annoyance. And still the wind kept coming, sneaking around corners, dancing along the rooftops, howling like a gathering pack of wolves.
Simeon Sorles, the Iron Throne Head Butler, shivered as he crossed the yard in response to the summons from one of his underlings. The younger man hadn't made much sense, but it had sounded like a matter he needed to investigate himself. Frowning heavily, he opened the door to the small hallway by the servants' entrance. The stranger waiting inside turned around, inclining his head politely. A tall, lean man with penetrating black eyes in a sharp face, his black hair neatly pulled back, he was wearing the livery used by all servants in the Iron Throne headquarters, dark gray and with the Throne insignia discreetly embroidered over the heart. "Good day to you, sir", he said. "I will be pleased to begin my service immediately, as agreed."
Sorles gave the stranger a confused look. He was sure he hadn't seen the man before. Or had he? Oh no. Suppose…suppose it was the last time I went out for…for a little night on the town? The Head Butler normally carried out his work perfectly. He did have one guilty secret however, being very fond of strong liquor. More often than not he would spend his day off drinking, either in one of the more discreet inns of the city or…down below it. This tended to leave him with holes in his memory large enough that you could drive a cart through them, and the next day he would have a splitting headache. So far, he had been able to carry out his work, but it wouldn't do for anybody in authority to find out. It might be taken the wrong way. Especially the fact that he visited the Undercellar not just for the drink but for the female company. A Head Butler needed to maintain a certain image. "And you are?" he asked, making himself sound as haughty as he could.
"You surprise me, sir", the stranger said, arching an eyebrow. "It is, after all, only five days since we made our arrangements. "I trust you will remember the time and place. It was…a bit below street-level if you see what I mean."
Damn. He knows of the Undercellar. If…if this gets out I'm doomed. Sorles tried to look indifferent, but it was impossible. He had been out on the mentioned day, and he could easily have chatted with the Grand Dukes themselves and not remembered it afterwards, he had been that drunk. But had to pretend he knew what the stranger was talking about, it wouldn't do to let anybody know of his lapses of memory. Well, a couple of his favorite girls at the Undercellar knew already, but they didn't know him by name, so it made no difference. "Yes", he said, attempting to sound as confident as usual. "I…I remember now. It's just that your name escapes me at the moment."
"Perfectly understandable, sir", the stranger said, with no apparent trace of mockery. "My name is Bron. Jacen Bron. At your service. You do remember hiring me as one of the upstairs servants, I trust?"
"Ah…yes. I…I seem to remember now."
"I am happy to hear it, sir", the man who had called himself Bron said, his face impassive. "I would hate to think that you intended to break our contract now that I have already acquired the livery as you specified. I would have had to take steps. Still, perhaps you might want to take another look at it, as well as at my references."
Sorles accepted a thick wad of papers and leafed through them. As he did, his eyes widened. "These…these are excellent references!" he exclaimed, hardly believing in his own luck. Bron had apparently served with several minor nobles outside Baldur's Gate, and they all praised his skills immensely.
"Yes, sir. I believe in doing my utmost to satisfy my employer."
"So it seems." Sorles now turned to the contract. He could recognize his own signature at the bottom. Everything certainly seemed all right, and the terms Bron wanted weren't unreasonable. A decent salary, not being obliged to stay at the Iron Throne compound and one day off a week. Sorles could definitely live with that if it meant getting his hands on a servant that good. Besides, he had obviously already signed, even if he couldn't remember it. He couldn't break the contract now. Not only would it be against the law, but also there was the small detail of the other man being able to spread the tale of his affiliations with the ladies of the Undercellar and his drunken revels there. "Yes", the Head Butler said. "Everything is in order." He cleared his throat, putting on his sternest face. "When working Upstairs, you will be required to perform with the utmost discretion. The Gentlemen do not wish to be disturbed when working. If you are called upon to wait on them, I want you to be more or less invisible and inaudible."
The ghost of a smile flickered across Bron's sharp face. "Certainly, sir", he said, sounding a little amused. "My clients have always found me more than capable of doing just that."
"Good", Sorles said, unsure of why he suddenly felt a little uneasy. "I'll have somebody show you to your quarters and then fill you in on your new duties."
"Thank you, sir", said Bron, his eyes inscrutable. "I am most eager to get started."
About half an hour later Jacen Bron, alias Vadrak Dekaras, was feeling very pleased indeed as he contemplated the morning's achievements. Everything had worked according to his plans so far. He was currently standing in a small chamber on the second floor of the Iron Throne building, a room that would be set aside for his use. While the contract he had had forged stipulated that he was free to spend his nights elsewhere if he so wished, he also needed a private place within the Throne building. It wasn't much, just a bare room with a narrow bed, a small table, a rickety chair and a cabinet, but he didn't really need any luxuries.
The assassin stood by the window, making note of the fact that it faced the inner courtyard, not the street. An imperfect escape route then if things should ever go that far. He would need to work out some alternate way. At least his future duties didn't seem all that taxing. The official ones, that was. The spying would likely be more demanding.
Yes, everything was going well. The moment he'd learnt through the Thieves Guild of Simeon Sorles' drinking habits he had suspected the man would be his means of infiltrating the Throne. The perfectly made Iron Throne livery, the masterfully forged contract and references, together with the Head Butler's memory lapses they had all helped to make the lie believable. Dekaras remembered how he'd found out about those memory lapses as he had trailed Sorles through the Undercellar, eavesdropping on his conversation with a pretty blonde courtesan named Aliva.
And to think, the assassin thought to himself, that so many of the nobles and other 'respectable' citizens who frequent that place actually delude themselves into believing that nobody will be able to recognize them as long as they're wearing a tiny black mask that barely covers their eyes. Laughable. The blackmailers of this city must be wealthier than the Grand Dukes themselves. Those foolish nobles are like sheep lining up to be sheared, for anybody who cares to do so. The way a person walks and moves about, their gestures - those things cannot be hidden by little masks. Not to mention those individuals who prance around naked, wearing their masks but neglecting to hide distinctive birthmarks and scars.
Dekaras shrugged and turned his thoughts from blackmail to a more relevant subject. The Thieves Guild of Baldur's Gate wasn't particularly extensive, not like some he'd seen. Still, he'd made a few useful contacts, and he'd been careful to go and see the Guild Leader as soon as he arrived. Ravenscar. What kind of a name is that, I ask you? Oh well. It could be worse, I suppose. He could have been calling himself 'Bloodmaster' or something equally ridiculous.
Still, it would have been a bad mistake to underestimate the man. Much better to have his blessing, such as it were, to operate within the city. The fee had been high, but not unreasonable, and it wasn't as if he didn't have the means to acquire more money. Also, it would have been extremely awkward to be bothered by the Guild while undercover. Much better to buy them off. His real enemies were dangerous enough, he didn't really need to create any new ones at the moment.
The assassin thought briefly about how to go about the rest of the mission. He would try to take things slowly, in order not to get discovered, but he also needed to learn as much as possible before Edwin's eventual arrival to the city. Once he had settled into his new role and established his position, he'd see what he could learn from the Iron Throne leaders. But more importantly than that, he would need to find out as much as possible about Sarevok, and that mage of his, Winski. Those two were in charge of the schemes within the schemes, he was willing to bet his life on that.
In fact, Dekaras thought with a crooked half-smile, I suppose I've just done so. Well, as long as I stay discreet there shouldn't be a problem. I'd really prefer to avoid an open confrontation; I don't want to move against them until I'm certain I have the upper hand if that's possible. And yet, I would also like to be able to present something substantial once Edwin gets here.
The assassin stared out the window, his black eyes pensive, as he tried to imagine what the wizard might be doing at the moment. I guess they've probably reached the mines by now. I just hope Edwin has the sense not to act without thinking, for once. I have a feeling Sarevok's hirelings at the mine will have been chosen for their fighting abilities, not for their tendency to overlook insults. He sighed quietly and fingered one of his many hidden daggers through the cloth of his sleeve. Given how well he knew Edwin, he estimated that the probability of the wizard doing nothing rash was a very slim one indeed.
And yet I have to trust him, unnerving as it is to let him wander about on his own. At least he knows how to handle his magic reasonably well by now that he shouldn't accidentally blast himself to bits. If only there weren't all those other people all too willing to do it for him…I really wish I could split in two and be there for him as well as here. But he isn't entirely alone, and there's nobody else available to handle this side of things. And we need this information, I know it.
Dekaras' face softened as the image of a woman drifted to the forefront of his mind. Her face was both proud and beautiful, and raven tresses flowed like a smooth black waterfall towards white shoulders, with skin as soft as silk. A will of iron she had, his lover, and a temper like wildfire, hot and deadly. It was part of what made her perfect. Promise me, she had said at their last tryst before he left. Promise me that you will keep him safe. That you will both be safe. She had repeated those words, as she had done before, and he had responded in the same manner that he had done before.
I promise, beloved, he had said, over and over again, gently touching her pale cheek. The two of you are the two most important people in the world to me, you know that. I would do anything to keep you both safe. Her kiss had been hungry, forceful, overflowing with hot need. It had been as if she was trying to touch his very soul and make him leave part of it behind for her to keep. The assassin suspected that he might well have done just that. It certainly felt that way. As he had run his fingers along the small of her back, he had felt her tremble with strong emotions and her body arched against his as if she was about to melt into him. That had made it very difficult to concentrate on what they were talking about.
And you had better keep that promise, and stay alive for me, his love had said once she was finally able to breathe properly again. If…if you go and die on me, I'll happily kill you myself.
I will keep my promise if I can, my love, Dekaras thought to himself, his mouth set with determination. But I will make my own priorities, as always. I don't care what I have to do, or who has to die, as long as our child remains safe and unharmed. Even if that somebody should happen to be myself. Should it come to a decision, I will not hesitate to do whatever I must. He looked out the window again, at the dancing Iron Throne banners high above on the towers. The eastern wind was still strong. It would likely be some time yet before it turned.