Throne of Cards 33 – Stealth and Shenanigans

As much as I care for my siblings – well, some of my siblings – on occasion they make me want to research amnesia spells.

Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'

"Right, repeat after me. What kind of mission is this?" Zaerini put her hands on her hips and gave her friends and siblings a firm look.

"Oh, I know!" Imoen piped up, waving her hand in the air. "A stealth mission! I'm gonna be the sneakiest and slinkiest and coolest, you'll see." She dug around in her bag. "I've got my lockpicks of course, and caltrops, and rope, and oil, and fake mustaches, and…"

"That's awesome, Immy," Zaerini said, smiling at her sister. "And yes, a stealth mission. What does that mean, Sarevok?"

Sarevok didn't reply. The large man simply stared blankly into midair, an absent expression on his face.

"Sarevok?" The bard waved her hand in front of her brother's face. "Are you awake?"

"I do not know this 'Sarevok' of whom you speak," Sarevok said. "I am Koveras, the meek and humble monk, looking forward to mingling with my fellow monkish brethren."

"Oh. Ok, I guess I can understand about getting properly into a role. We'll just see if we can find you a robe long enough this time, shall we? Vic, are you sure you'll be all right?"

Viconia nodded, pulling the hood of her cloak up to obscure her face. "I will stick to the shadows as much as possible," She said. "Also, drow have excellent hearing, and I will keep away from overly curious inhabitants."

"Good. We want to attract as little attention as possible. Eddie and I will be in disguise of course, and Minsc…"

"Minsc will follow his Witch's lead," Minsc proudly stated. "And Boo's, of course."

Zaerini looked at Boo. The hamster was sitting on Minsc's shoulder, fussing with his whiskers and apparently ignoring the conversation entirely. "Just try not to get into any fights," She said. "Stealth mission, remember?"

"I make no promises should we run into that…Ulraunt person," Edwin said. He flexed his fingers briefly with an ominous smirk. "A broken nose isn't nearly satisfaction enough for the way he treated you."

"Fair enough," She replied, feeling warmth blossoming in her chest as she met her lover's eyes. She winked at him. "Just…try not to blow up my entire childhood home, would you? Call me sentimental but I'd really rather avoid that. Let's go then, I'll try to land us right in my old room where nobody will see us coming. It's small and out of the way, they probably haven't started using it for anything important yet." And I can't wait to get Vadrak back to normal. Then he can have the pleasure of organizing the next stealth and infiltration mission. She gathered her thoughts, preparing herself to pull the Bhaalpower in and open the pocketplane onto a new destination. Well, it can't be as bad as a jailbreak in the middle of Rasheman. Or that one time when we got trapped in the Twisted Rune's headquarter. Not to mention Ust Natha, ugh. This is just Candlekeep, how bad can it be?

"Your room, little sister? It is somewhat smaller than I would have expected, and a fair amount darker. Also, there would seem to be a bucket on top of my head."

"Fine, fine," Rini said with an annoyed sigh. "So, I landed us in the broom closet next to my old room. I'd like to see you do better. No wait, I wouldn't, because that would mean you'd have killed me back in Baldur's Gate and you'd be doing some sort of insane divine rampage across the countryside, drinking blood from the skulls of your foes and sticking spikes on everything. At least I didn't land us in the dungeon. Come on."

She hurried to herd her companions into the proper room, very much relieved that there was nobody present to see them in the corridor, and also that her old room was not only unlocked but that it seemed virtually unchanged. True, it felt a lot smaller than it had used to, but that was partially due to large people with armour crowding inside it. Her old bed was still there, her desk and her small bookshelf, the chest which had held her few changes of clothes and some makeup Gorion had pretended not to know about, and…

Moving so fast she practically teleported on top of her bed, she suddenly found herself standing on top of it, arms spread wide and defensive to cover up the Thing on the wall behind her. "Nothing to see here!" She said, her voice suddenly sounding annoyingly squeaky. "Move along!"

"What…is that?" Edwin asked, a mix of revulsion and amusement clearly present on his face.

"Nothing, I tell you!"

"Oh, that old thing," Imoen said, her blue eyes sparkling. "Yep, Rini got it from a traveling merchant back when she was…about fourteen, I think? Gorion didn't really approve but since she bought it with her own savings, he let her keep it. It's a pretty good woodcut, isn't it?"

"Immy, just shut up now, please?"

"I mean, you can almost see the muscles and things rippling and bulging," Imoen carried on, her smile devilish by now. "Really lifelike."

"If not entirely anatomically correct," Viconia said with a brief sniff. "The Underdark is far better at this sort of thing. It is a pity I did not know you at the time, abbil, I could have given you proper instruction."

Rini covered her face with her hands, certain her cheeks were about to catch on fire. "Guys…please…"

"What was it called again?" Imoen mused. "Hey, I remember! 'The Rampant Stallion Who Humps the World'. Funny really that there aren't any horses in it, I used to wonder about that for a while."

"Perhaps that large fellow has them hidden in his loincloth," Sarevok said. "Then again, it's a very small loincloth, so they'd have to be miniature horses."

"Boo would like miniature horses! He could ride them into combat! In Rasheman, we believe that dreams can be caught and trapped by spirits, was Little Rini trying to trap a dream about horses by hanging this over her bed?"

"Undoubtedly it provided nocturnal entertainment of some sort," Sarevok chuckled.

Kill me now, please. Or stick me back with the Twisted Rune, that'd be preferable to this.

"That will do," Edwin said. Warm hands touched hers, gently pulling them away from her face, and she blinked as she looked into her lover's dark eyes. "Hellkitten, this is a mere trifle and of no significance. Your annoying siblings are attempting to tease you that is all. But you have no need to hide from me. Never think that."

"Oh," She said, feeling a little sheepish still, but otherwise much better. "I…suppose not."

"Besides, I had my own little…misadventures at that age. (The Adventure of The Gasping Concubines springs to mind.)"

"Mm, fair enough I suppose. I've seen your home after all, it's only right that you should get to see mine, without doppelgangers this time. I just wish you could have met Gorion as well. I think you might have got on with him, actually."

"Hm. I suppose that is possible. (After all, the man raised her to be the most glorious female on the face of the planet, so he cannot have been a complete incompetent fool.)"

Viconia cleared her throat at this point. "Shall we get going then? Or is Edwin going to attempt to outdo the woodcut?"

"That's for later, I think," Rini said as she squeezed the wizard's hand. "For now, let's get suited up!"

Illusion spells were all well and good, Zaerini thought, but they did take some effort to maintain, and it would be bad if one failed at an inopportune moment. She used one to temporarily make her bright red hair appear a more ordinary brown and did the same for her eyes. A small spell of obfuscation would hopefully keep anybody from looking at her face too closely and she put the final touches to her disguise with a loosely flowing and rather bright purple robe which would serve to both hide her sword and hopefully also her half-elf heritage. Plus, she had the idea that if anybody looked at her, it'd be the purple they looked at and remembered, not the rest of her. "I'll be Minsc's Witch," She explained. "I know my impression doesn't get the accent quite right yet, but it's really unlikely we'll meet anybody actually from Rasheman here and it gives me a plausible reason for wandering the libraries."

"Minsc's Witch is the best Witch ever, and he'll lop the head off anybody who dares claim otherwise."

"Right, thank you Minsc, but please try to avoid that. Now, Eddie…"

"…will certainly not be pretending to hail from that ghastly hellhole of a cesspit," Edwin said with a disgusted curl to his lower lip. "The mere thought of it makes my blood boil."

"Yes, but…you actually do. Hail from it, kind of. At least half of you."

"That is not the point!" Edwin made a lazily elegant gesture with his hand, muttered a few words, and his bright red robe turned a deep black. "There, that will do. As much as it pains me to hide my proud position, one does as one has to in order not to utterly petrify these peasants."

Because a wizard in a pure black robe is ever so much less ominous than one in a red one? Well, he was only here for a very brief time, so let's hope nobody recognizes him.

"Want a false mustache?" Imoen helpfully suggested. "I've got plenty!" The young rogue had changed her clothes as well, into more nondescript ones than normal, and she'd hidden her pink hair under a woolly hat. Not a pink one either, and she'd done something to her face with makeup, making her eyes look more sunken and her cheeks hollower. It wouldn't fool somebody who knew her well, but it should be enough for the regular monks, guards and servants.

"I have a mustache of my own, as well as a beard, and a magnificent one at that," Edwin said, proudly stroking the appendage in question.

"Yeah sure, but disguise, remember? I've got false beards as well. Come on, somebody has to use one! It's traditional. Here, try this long, white one."

Edwin rolled his eyes, but he did take the offered beard, and it actually managed to hide enough of his face as to make him pretty unrecognizable. Viconia discreetly pulled the hood of her cloak up to hide her face in its shadows, and that left…

"Ok, 'Koveras'. Let's find you a monk robe. I know where the laundry room is, so Immy and I will go fetch you one. Stay in here in the meantime please and try not to attract attention."

"I will meditate upon the Oneness of All," Sarevok stated, his eyes closed as he sat cross-legged on Zaerini's small bed. She wondered if it would crack under his weight but decided that it was her brother's own problem if that happened. "Koveras knows not the passage of Time, he merely passes through it."

"Um….good, I guess. We'll try to hurry back." Smiling what she hoped was an encouraging smile, Zaerini slipped out through the door and into the dimly lit corridors of Candlekeep. Home, sweet home.

"And is this what thou callest 'stainless'? Methinks thy competence is regrettably…lacking." Zaerini wondered for a moment if she was laying it on too thick. Certainly, her fake Rashemani accent, far more exaggerated than Dynaheir's, was enough to nearly make her tongue tie itself in knots, but that in combination with her haughty manner and the vivid robe seemed to be doing the trick. She pointed accusingly at the young monk manning the laundry room, making her sleeve flutter before his eyes just as Imoen snuck into the room behind his back. "Look! An accursed stain, here! The blood of some disobedient and ill-mannered dolt, I do not doubt." She pursed her lips. "Thou art not ill-mannered, art thou? I do so disapprove of that."

"My…my lady," The young monk stammered. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about, I've never seen you before…"

"Irrelevant! If it wast…was not thou, then it was one of thy equally incompetent compatriots. In fair Rasheman, such negligence wouldst be most heavily frowned upon." Behind the monk's back she saw Imoen hastily digging through the laundry baskets, frowning in concentration. Just as expected, the robes so far found had all been too small to fit Sarevok. "He dost not remember!" Zaerini exclaimed to the heavens, throwing her hands wide in mock despair. "The impertinence, the negligence! Why, next thou wilt suggest thou hast not cleansed the hamster-pouch."

"The…the…"

"The hamster-pouch! It needs proper rinsing, the creature dost not always signal when it is ready to eliminate, and I do not mean its favoured mode of attack. Dost thou know nothing…what is thy name?"

"Er…Ron, my lady. But my apprentice name is 'Flow', since I work the laundry and…"

"Silence! Thou knowest nothing, Ron Flow. Nothing." Behind the bewildered Ron's back, Imoen was signaling a 'thumbs up'. Rini nodded decisively. "I am deeply disappointed, but I will forgive it for the sake of thy youth and general ignorance. I expect the hamster-pouch to be thoroughly rinsed upon my return, mind. And I wilt…will be bak." The accent nearly did her in on the last line, it felt like she was about to choke on her own tongue. Bit too much maybe. I'll see if I can persuade Vadrak to give me lessons when we get him back to normal. Still, it seems to have worked. To be sure, Imoen was in the clear, one giant monk robe tucked neatly under her arm as she slipped away around the corner. Step one. Let's hope it all goes this smoothly.

Originally, Zaerini had planned to take the same route back to her old room that she had taken to get to the laundry-room. However, she spotted a couple of monks who had been closely involved in her tutoring standing near the staircase. They were apparently quite preoccupied with their conversation, but she thought it best not to pass too close by them anyway. Not after all the hours they spent nagging me about the most basic things. Honestly, sometimes I think they were ready to instruct me in how to walk from one point to another, or…or open doors or climb stairs. So, she and Imoen took a turn, passing through the main library to get to the larger stairs leading back up. She kept to the edges and the shadows as much as possible, but also took care to glide along with an expression of slightly bored indifference on her face. I am a Witch of Rasheman. I was raised to rule, and I fear nothing and nobody here. To be sure, nobody paid any attention to her or to Imoen, and she was just about to turn the last corner and head up the stairs when she spotted it. There was a smaller room to the side, off the east wing of the library. She vaguely remembered it as keeping collections of very dull memoirs before, or at least she'd thought them dull at the point. So why was the door now closed and barred, and why were there two very large monks standing on either side of it, keeping watch?

Then, the door opened, and a familiar and highly unwelcome person walked out. At first, she thought Ulraunt looked just as sour as she remembered him, but then she realized she was mistaken and the impression was created by his nose, still oddly shaped after Edwin's past treatment of it. The old man was in fact looking uncommonly pleased about something, as pleased as he'd been to see her in a jail cell under Candlekeep. The thing she could just about glimpse under his elbow before the door was closed told her why. The room had been cleared out, the ordinary bookshelves all gone, but it wasn't entirely empty. In the middle of the floor, on a raised dais, stood a large glass case, and inside the case, on top of a red velvet pillow, an old book rested snugly. There wasn't time enough to look closely at the book, but there was time enough. She'd seen enough of it at the time, when Edwin would barely let it out of his sight. It was definitely 'the History of The Nether Scrolls', and there was definitely a spider web of lethal magical wards crisscrossing the air around the glass case. She wasn't sure, but she thought she heard some noise from inside the room as well, thumping and shuffling as if something was moving about in there. Whatever it was, it seemed unlikely to be friendly.

Well, Immy and I used to boast there was no place in Candlekeep we couldn't get into if we really wanted it. She swept up the stairs, purple robes fluttering grandly behind her. Time for our final exam.