Throne Of Cards 36 – Flourish And Force

Making an excellent plan means you're good at what you do. Adapting once that excellent plan clashes with reality is what makes you great.

Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'

Imoen tried to focus on her breathing, and on keeping her hands absolutely steady. Minsc had lowered her down into the middle of the room, and the gap there between the magical wards was apparently just large enough that she could slip through. She absolutely trusted that her sister could spot them, but Rini would then have to tell Minsc exactly what to do and that bit was making Imoen a bit nervous. Still, so far so good. She was hanging in front of the case containing the 'History Of The Nether Scrolls' now, and no alarms had gone off. The pressure plate traps on the floor around the case meant that she'd have to pick the lock while still dangling in the air just above the floor, and the ropes were digging into her chest, but that couldn't be helped. At least she'd stopped spinning around.

Now to pick the lock. And how to do that, when the magnet traps will go off as soon as any metal enters this room?

Imoen smirked triumphantly, and pulled a slim, pale yellow object out of a pocket.

Silly Ulraunt. Lockpicks don't have to be made from metal. Dragonbone was just as strong as good steel, and she'd taken the opportunity to harvest some from that old black dragon back in Suldanesselar. At the time she'd had only a vague idea what to do with it, but the time spent waiting in the elven city had given her time to work on a few little projects. The lockpick was smooth as silk in her hand, and it slid neatly into the lock. The world narrowed, focusing into a tiny pinprick. She didn't feel the ropes cutting into her ribs anymore, she'd forgotten about the strain on her breathing. There was only the lock, and the lockpick. Tiny, delicate movements, testing, probing. She needed to sense rather than hear or see, the almost imperceptible little differences as she felt her way across grooves and curves. To her mind, they felt as large as hills and valleys, almost as if she were inside the lock itself. It was complex, yes, but there was…yes. She could make the path out now. Just a tiny nudge to the left, and lifting just so…

Snik.

Ha! Gotcha! She allowed herself to exhale slowly, feeling a little lightheaded now that part was done. Onto the next part. The glass case was unlocked now, and could be opened, but there were still the cleverly disguised pressure plate traps at all four corners. The case was pressing down on them, but if they weren't shut down the alarm would sound as soon as the case was lifted up. Can't have that. Putting the lockpick back in her pocket, Imoen instead took out a regular wooden butter knife, as well as a small glass jar and four ordinary playing cards. Holding the knife between her teeth and trying not to breathe too quickly, she unscrewed the lid of the jar, smeared a good-sized dollop of the glue inside onto the first card, and gently slid the card under the corner of the glass case and onto the pressure plate. Very careful, yes. She could afford to tilt the corner up just a tiny bit without the pressure loosening too much, but she mustn't overdo it. The butterknife helped smooth the card into place, and it settled firmly onto the pressure plate, gluing it down without the case itself getting stuck in the glue. All done, she proceeded to the second corner, and the third. Just one left. That, of course, was when calamity struck.

Imoen had been a little bit uncertain about the knots she'd used to secure herself to the rope into a makeshift harness, but since everything had gone well so far, she'd stopped worrying. That, as it turned out, was a mistake. As she signed to Minsc to shift her around to the fourth and last corner of the case, she moved a little too suddenly, and she could feel one of the knots shifting and loosening. She just had time for a tiny gasp of horror, and then the knot came loose, and she was tilted upside down, her nose a bare inch above the trapped floor.

"Immy!" She heard her sister choke from above.

"Sssh!" She whispered once she was able to breathe again. Would breathing too hard set the trap off? She didn't think so, but you never knew. "Get me up – not all the way, just a little!" She heard Zaerini murmuring something to Minsc, and then she was slowly pulled up and away from the deadly floor. Once again, she was of a height with the case, but this time she was upside-down. Very slowly and gingerly she started inserting the last playing card, and she was nearly done now, nearly…

Imoen felt it rather than saw it, as her precious dragonbone lockpick gently slipped out of her pocket and tumbled towards the floor. Nearly dislocating her shoulder, she lunged for it, quick reflexes helping her to just manage to grasp it between her fingertips before it hit the floor. Ow. Ow, ow, ow, ow. Sometimes, being a rogue really hurts, doesn't it? At least she'd managed to keep from crying out. She stuck the lockpick between her teeth and focused once again on breathing slowly through her nose. It wasn't the easiest thing, since she was upside-down all her blood was rushing to her head. Good thing I didn't have to actually pick the lock like this. Not sure if I could have pulled that off. The last card was in place now, the pressure plates neatly disarmed. Now she had to get the book out, and avoid setting off the last trap. If she'd had to lift the entire case up, she'd have been in trouble, it was pretty heavy. Luckily that wasn't necessary. Imoen silently signaled her waiting sister with a wave of her hand, and then she felt the ropes trembling lightly. Insufferable neatly ran down the rope, grinning happily as he went. The tiny monkey moved as easily as if he'd been walking on flat ground, even going down headfirst. He scurried across Imoen's back and shoulder, then onto her arm and waited there. Small as he was, Imoen only had to tilt one end of the case up in order for him to slip inside. I guess I'll have to give Eddie credit for this bit. Wonder how he came up with the idea of a thieving monkey?

The book was too large for Insufferable to carry, but that wouldn't be a problem for much longer. Above them, Zaerini quietly whispered the words to a spell, and the precious book slowly began to shrink. Eventually, it had been reduced to about a quarter of its former size, but as the trap was set to react to sudden decreases in weight it didn't go off. They couldn't completely take the pressure off though. And besides, it'd be rude to leave Ulraunt with nothing. Insufferable gave a quiet chirp, and Imoen slid Ulraunt's present inside. The monkey eyed it critically and hefted it in one foot, even as he grabbed hold of their prize with his hand. Then, it was done, and the fluffy little animal hugged himself with glee as he pushed the 'History Of The Nether Scrolls' out of the case and climbed onto Imoen's shoulder with it.

Imoen gave a thumb's up to Minsc, smiling a broad smile as the big man began patiently hauling her up. Unlocked, unloaded, undetected. There was only one tiny regret, really. I really, really wish I could see Ulraunt's face tomorrow.

Ulraunt, Keeper of the Tomes of Candlekeep, had been having a restless night. He'd slept badly, tossing and turning, and although he couldn't remember what his dreams had been about, he knew they'd been unpleasant. The frantic pounding on his bedroom door that finally awoke him did nothing for his mood either.

"What is it?!" He called out, hurrying to slip his prosthetic nose into place. No matter how skilled the clerics he'd sought out, nobody had been able to fully restore the real thing after that…that disgusting little renegade wizard had mutilated it. It hadn't been a full two years yet, but it still hurt, and the buildup of crusts in the exposed bits was no picnic either.

"Sir!" A panicked voice called outside. "You have to come at once, there's…there's been a robbery! We think it's ghosts!"

"WHAT?!" Ulraunt flung the door open, nose askew, and for once he ignored the way the guard stared. Pausing only to throw a loose robe on over his nightshirt and adjust the nose once again, he hurried after the man, listening on the way to a confused tale about unconscious guards, flashing lights and soothing voices, and worst of all, of a missing artifact. As he reached the room where his most precious acquisition had been stored, he was ready to scream with frustration. As bewildering as the guard's ramblings were, there could be no doubt about the truth of the disaster. The door had been guarded, the traps and alarms hadn't been set off. And yet…

"Where is the golem?" Ulraunt accused the trembling guardsman. Indeed, there was no trace of the creature.

"Sir, we don't know sir," The guard said. "It was there when we checked the place last night, but…"

No, still no golem. Pausing only to deactivate the alarms, Ulraunt approached the glass case. Something stuck to his slipper as he did so, a small and wet little lump. Paper? He didn't know what hideous fiend could have dismantled his guardian so easily – and without making a sound – but right now that was the lesser problem. The case where his treasure had been stored was…not empty. There was something there, resting neatly on the satin pillow inside, but it definitely wasn't the artifact that had so preoccupied his studies lately. Frowning, Ulraunt motioned for the nervous guardsmen to open the case, and stepped closer, peering inside. The object was small, and rectangular. He picked it up, weighing it carefully in one hand.

"Cards?" one guard said, sounding as baffled as Ulraunt felt.

It was, indeed, what seemed to be an ordinary deck of cards. There was nothing magical about it at all, nor did it do anything in particular. Not knowing what else to do, he opened it, spreading the cards out. At first, there seemed to be nothing unusual about them. He looked again, thoughts racing frantically in utter bewilderment. And then, he saw it. Each card, in itself, was entirely ordinary. The unusual thing about them was that they were all the same. Each and every one of them portrayed the exact same image. It was a man in motley, a belled cap on his head, walking heedlessly into an abyss without seeing it. There was an oblivious idiot smile on his face, and elegant golden letters beneath, naming the card for what it was.

The Fool.

"All set, Dread Wizard?" Zaerini asked her lover. She wrapped her arm around his waist and cuddled in a little closer and noticed that though he returned the embrace his arms were shaking a little.

"I…believe so," Edwin said. He chewed nervously on his lower lip. "Yes, the calculations are correct this time, there can be no doubt about it. The temporal nexus is absolutely adjusted for according to the deviations in the leylines, and the halflife of the internal energies has been accounted for. The memory matrix will definitely hold. I just…"

"I know. It'll be fine, you'll see. This time, you're properly prepared."

Having slipped out of Candlekeep via the pocketplane, the adventurers had grabbed a short rest after the tense work of the evening. Well, the others had rested. Edwin had spent hours with his nose buried in the 'History Of The Nether Scrolls', constantly consulting the scroll itself, decrypting the codes within and making lengthy notes until Rini eventually dragged him to bed when he passed out with his head on the table. Then they had made a quick detour to Thay, and lady Elvira had agreed with her son's findings and that he should be able to cast the spell properly this time. She'd declined to be present though, and simply said that she wished to be informed directly once it was done.

With good news. This time, for sure.

When they stepped through the portal from the pocketplane into the druid grove, it was early morning, the sun's earliest rays just barely trickling down between the tall trees. The soft grass was wet with dew, and birds were noisily proclaiming their undisputed dominion over whatever tree they happened to be sitting in.

"Oh, there you are," Jaheira said, stepping out of one of the huts. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd be another day. Is everything sorted out now?"

"Well, we have what we wanted," Rini said. "We've done everything we can, so it'd better work. How did things work out here? Everything ok?" Edwin shifted anxiously from foot to foot, his eyes darting between the huts.

"Of course!" Jaheira said with a slightly exasperated sigh. "The child is perfectly well, and will undoubtedly be pleased to see you, although I might have wished you'd come a little later in the day – a growing child needs his sleep."

"Hopefully we'll grow him up just fine anyway in just a little bit. There were no problems then?"

"The forest still stands, as you can see, and the world turns. I will go and fetch him, just give me a moment."

Jaheira quietly stepped inside the house again, closing the door behind her. A few minutes later she came back outside, a half comatose young assassin shuffling behind her.

"Oh," Dekaras said, covering his mouth as he yawned hugely. "You're back." His hair was messy, his eyes bleary, and he seemed to be slurring his words a little.

"Are you all right?" Zaerini asked, blinking.

"'m not a morning person."

"Oh. Fair enough. Well, we've got the spell sorted out. Eddie can do it whenever you want. You want us to go right ahead, or need some more rest first?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm fine, go ahead."

"Very good," Edwin said. He cleared his throat and fiddled with the sleeve of his robe. "I, ah, believe you will wish for some privacy as we do this. It should be entirely safe, but it may not be entirely comfortable. Also, I require careful concentration." He pointed at the rest of the group. "That means you surplus simians may scatter for now. Shoo, get out of our way."

"Charming as always," Viconia said, rolling her eyes. "As you wish, wizard, but you'd better not cause any calamities this time."

"This time?" Dekaras said as the others walked off to get some breakfast. He sounded a little alarmed.

"Ahaha," Edwin said. "Nothing of any concern whatsoever, I assure you! No, no, no. Now, indoors will be best, less distraction from noise and light there. (No detail, no matter how minute, must be overlooked.) Also, I require a reasonably large free area of floor."

"There is a fairly large storage room," Jaheira suggested. "I will show you to it and see to it that you are not disturbed." She pursed her lips in thought. "Also, I will go and fetch a blanket and a few other things."

"Blanket?"

"You do not expect those clothes to fit him afterwards, do you? They just might strangle him if you turn him back while he's still wearing them. And correct me if I am wrong, but he would probably prefer not to wander about in a completely natural state."

Dekaras wrinkled his nose. "A blanket would be good," He agreed.

"I will see to it." Jaheira gave Edwin a bright smile, and grabbed him firmly by the collar, pulling him closer. "And as for you, you had better know what you're doing this time."

"Unhand me at once, you irritating god-botherer! You cannot possibly fathom the deepest secrets of the arcane."

"He means 'yes'," Rini said. "And he's sure." I think.

"I can't help but notice," Dekaras said, "That the words 'this time' seem to be coming up rather often." He gave Edwin a suspicious look. "You're not going to give me two heads, are you? Or make me explode?"

"Nonsense!" Edwin exclaimed with a rather brittle smile as he steered the boy inside the storage room. "I swear on my life, I will fix this, no matter what it takes."

"That's what I'm afraid of…"

The storage room was only partially used at this time of year, a few barrels and crates of potatoes, apples, and various probably edible but utterly unpalatable roots stacked against the walls. Edwin immediately set to work drawing various runes and symbols on the floor in chalk, eventually forming what could be loosely described as a circle. It had so many squiggles, corners and edges to it however, that it was impossible to look at it without your eyes hurting and your brain wanting to run away.

I don't understand half of that, Rini mused as she looked on. Edwin seemed to have entirely forgotten he wasn't alone in the room, occasionally muttering quietly to himself as he rubbed out a rune to replace it with another one. She smiled with fierce pride. He really is amazing.

"There," Edwin finally said. He winced slightly as he stood up, pressing his hand against his lower back. "It is all prepared. We can begin now."

"Hold on a moment," Dekaras said. He hurriedly ducked behind a crate; his cheeks slightly pink. There was a faint rustle, and then he came back out, carefully wrapped in the blanket Jaheira had provided, his bare feet sticking out underneath. "Should I just stand in the middle?"

"Yes, please. Mind the 'Kael' rune there, so you don't step on it. We don't want it to get smudged or you could end up in another world."

"I don't step on things I'm not supposed to," The boy flatly stated. He nimbly navigated across the offending rune and positioned himself exactly in the middle of the circle. "Anything else?"

"No, just hold still, if you please. I will begin momentarily. Do not be alarmed if there is some small discomfort, it is all part of the process." Edwin nodded to himself a final time, his eyes just a little bit unfocused as he started quietly whispering to himself. It was a few moments before anything obvious happened, but then Zaerini could feel it. It was tickling the edge of her awareness, then pushing against her mind, heavy and unstoppable. It was a tidal wave, raw power almost beyond comprehension, and she could feel a smile of pure wonder on her lips. Wow. That's pretty awesome. Now she could see something as well, as the runes and symbols of the circle started glowing. At first the light was faint, but it gradually became stronger until it was a blazing white, and she had to squint in order to see. The light was rising into the air as well, a shimmering column of light. She had trouble making out Dekaras inside it, but she could just about see that he was standing still in the middle of the circle. Edwin's voice was growing louder, echoing in ways that didn't sound entirely human, as if he was speaking from some other place far away and using two tongues at once. The wizard had his hands raised now, and she could sense the power streaming from him and into the circle and how much it took to keep that power in check.

"Eredus," Edwin intoned, fingers trembling slightly now. "Drianor. A-Astenoth!"

There was a deep, reverberating boom, felt rather than heard. The light flared up so bright she had to close her eyes, and when she opened them again everything was still blurry. Even so, she still thought she could see something…odd. Dekaras was still there, but…but…

Oh crap.

There was a very angry-looking toddler sitting in the middle of the circle, probably no older than two or so. The icy glare he was levelling at a shocked Red Wizard seemed entirely too self-aware for him to be simply upset about the bright light and loud noise as well.

"Eddie!" She nearly screamed.

The flustered wizard swallowed hard. "Minor…miscalculation…"

The baby gave him a look that hinted at the possibility of baby-teeth used to tear out vital organs very shortly.

"Not to worry, I merely…I've got it now, I always seem to get that one wrong. (At least it wasn't accidental goblins this time.)" He cleared his throat, gathering the still amassed power closer once more. "Eredus. Drianor. AZTAROTH!"

Once again, the light became a pure incandescent column of white light, but this time she could definitely see the shape inside growing taller.

"Almost there…" Edwin murmured. "Almost…there!" He brought his hands down in a cutting motion. "Haylathas arak!" The light instantly winked out; the silence almost deafening. Rini held her breath, trying to see what was happening even as her eyes struggled to adjust to the gloom.

"Hm?" Dekaras said as he staggered out of the circle in something of a daze. "Er…Edwin?"

Thank the gods.

The assassin, mercifully enough, seemed to be back to his normal self. He was certainly an adult again, and entirely recognizable as his normal self. Or…is he? There was something that seemed to be a little off, but she couldn't tell what it was. Trick of the light? Edwin hurried to his side so quickly his feet hardly seemed to touch the ground, propping him up by the shoulder.

"Are you all right?" The wizard said, his voice an octave higher than normal with trepidation. "Are you hurt? I am so, so sorry about this, I only wanted to help, but…"

"Mm?" Dekaras said. He was using one hand to hold himself upright by leaning on Edwin, and the other to clutch the blanket tightly wound around his waist.

"Do you…do you remember me now?" Edwin asked, his eyes wide and round with unfiltered fear. "Do you remember? Please say you do. (Mind healers…I must find the best ones possible!)"

"Edwin?" Dekaras said again, his voice more than a little hoarse. "Do you…remember those rather miserable years when you were going through puberty?"

The wizard blinked. "Er, yes? Are you quite sure you're all right? Here, how many fingers am I holding up?"

"Do you also remember," Dekaras interrupted him, "The various changes you went through at that time? Parts of you growing chaotically and seemingly overnight, the pimple eruptions, the tantrums and sulks, your brain descending into…" He winced briefly. "Into pure, hormone-ridden insanity?"

"I hardly think I sulked," Edwin objected. "I was…"

"Sulking. At any rate. The traumatizing changes that took you a few years to get over, all those things just happened to me."

"Oh…"

"For the second time in my life."

"Oh."

"Over the course of approximately ten seconds."

"Oh!"

"But other than that, I'm just fine, thank you." The assassin smiled a lopsided smile. "I'll be fully with you shortly, once I'm able to walk straight without tripping over my feet and get over a strange urge to write despondent and self-absorbed poetry."

Edwin exhaled slowly with relief, and then proceeded to enfold his father in a chokingly tight embrace. "Thank the gods!" He whispered, his voice trembling. He was smiling, but there were wet streaks running down his cheeks, and Rini could feel her own eyes growing misty as well. "I thought…I was worried that…I'm so, so glad to have you back."

Dekaras nodded, patting the wizard on the back as he returned the embrace. "Believe me," He said with great conviction. "It is very good to be back." Then he looked down at his make-shift blanket loincloth. "Now, does anybody have some spare clothes?"