Throne of Cards 45 – Oasis and Obfuscation
As tempting as it can be to stomp on the kobold nipping at your heels, sometimes it's better to save your strength. There may just be a dragon waiting around the next corner.
Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'
"So, that's where we stand. Thoughts or suggestions?" Zaerini looked around the circle of her friends, all gathered by the campfire in the pocketplane. All of them had listened attentively enough, and with varying degrees of concern. Well, Minsc had spent the time busily grooming Boo's fur but he probably had listened all the same.
"It is as you say," Viconia said. "You are marked by divine attention, and that limits your options. Whatever this Melissan's motivations are, your siblings will come after you sooner or later."
"Not me!" Imoen piped up with a grin. "Not unless she tries to put down my glorious pocketplane decorating skills again."
"I only said that maybe the pink heart-shaped flower vase in your quarters was a bit much," Rini replied with a smile of her own. "It was totally gross and should be crushed into itty-bitty little pieces."
"Ha! Fighting words! It's a duel to the death now, Sis!"
"While that vase hardly sounds like something to my own tastes," Dekaras said, "May I ask what elicited the strong reaction?"
"It was shaped like an actual human heart. The flowers went inside the aorta."
"Oh," The assassin said. "That sounds like an exceedingly impractical design."
"Myeah," Imoen admitted. "I was going for romantic, but I think the Bhaal bit underneath my own mind interfered. Anyway, as I was saying, I won't be fighting Rini, and neither will Sarevok. Will you, Sarry?"
"I think," Sarevok rumbled, "That we are past that point, are we not?" He gave Zaerini a nod which she returned. She was glad to see he seemed to be holding up well after their talk last night. He'd been looking rather thoughtful all morning, or whatever passed for morning in the pocketplane, but not unhappy or angry.
"That we are," She agreed. "And maybe not all of our siblings will try to kill me, but I think it's safe to say that those allied with Yaga-Shura will, and they'll all be at least as powerful as he was. I may not have any other choice than to kill them before they kill me."
"Which begs the question," Dekaras said, "Why Melissan is so invested in aiming you at them. I think we can safely rule out altruistic reasons, but could she be a Bhaalspawn herself?"
"I thought about it," Rini said. "And it would make logical sense, I agree, but somehow it doesn't feel right. There's something familiar about other Bhaalspawn, something I can sense now I know what I'm looking for, and I don't sense it in her."
"Next time she turns up like a recurring rash," Edwin said, "let's eliminate all potential for a later sudden yet inevitable betrayal, and simply send her head into orbit. (A spell aimed just so should do the trick.)"
"Oooh I like the sound of that. And if we hadn't all been worn out from the battle last time, I'd have been tempted. But Bhaalspawn or not, I don't want to underestimate her, and if we'll have to fight her, I want it to be on our terms if possible." Rini cleared her throat. "I guess nobody objects to us going to this Amkethran place to meet Melissan's contact? Minsc, you haven't said anything yet, what do you think?"
"Minsc just has one question, Little Rini."
"Yes?"
"What is behind the new door over there?"
"Right. The door." Zaerini turned her head towards the object in question. It was indeed a door, a perfectly ordinary and mundane wooden door. What was less ordinary and mundane was the way it was standing on its own, with no surrounding walls, towards one side of the clearing. Earlier, when she'd first woken up and found it, she'd walked all the way around to the other side, but it had looked just the same from that angle. That's when she had decided to keep it hidden from her friends until it was time to bring it up, just in case somebody got it into their head to wander through. I probably shouldn't be surprised that Minsc saw right through the illusion. Or Boo did, I suppose. "I'm guessing that it's the next challenge the Bhaal part of me has created," She said with what she hoped was a plausibly reassuring smile. "You know, to prepare me. Just in case of ascension to godhood. Which hopefully won't happen, but it's there and I'm afraid I'll have to go through it to deal with whatever's inside. It will be something I need to learn. The rest of you don't have to…"
"Don't be ridiculous," Edwin interrupted her, his fingers reaching out to lightly tug on her hair. "There is no question of you going in alone, so do not even attempt to argue. You will face whatever horrors lie inside with the peerless magic of Edwin Odesseiron to support you, be it demons, dragons or worst of all the hideous and tasteless interior decorating skills of a Bhaalspawn of the pink persuasion."
"Hey!" Imoen protested. "You didn't even see my room, so nyah! Just for that you're not getting a go on the bouncy castle."
"He is quite right," Dekaras said. "We – no, not about your room Imoen, I haven't even seen it, remember? No, that does not mean I desire a guided tour right now." He sighed and turned to Rini. "As I was about to say, we will of course accompany you, and I see no reason to delay it, since we are all as rested as possible."
"All right," Rini agreed, and she stood, smoothing her clothes down. "Let's go and see what we've got. Just remember everyone, keep on your toes, whatever is inside is probably dangerous." She waited until she was sure everybody was right behind her and ready for battle, and then she pulled the door open and stepped through. What she saw gave her pause, if only briefly. Well, that's new, but maybe I should have seen it coming.
There was another her standing there, waiting for her in an empty place filled with screaming stars. The Other shared her slim build, her red hair, her gold eyes, even the small scar under her chin from when she'd fallen down a tree when she was seven. In other ways, the Other was very different. There was the armor, for one thing. Expensive, well-fitting, but also very black and very spiky. And horned helmets definitely aren't my kind of thing. Especially horns with spikes on. Ugh. Then there was the malevolent glint in the Other's eyes, and the cruel smile on her lips. She didn't think she smiled like that, at least not often.
There were other people standing there with Other Her, but thankfully not twisted versions of her friends. Tamoko was there, instantly recognizable with her long black braid and the way she moved like a stalking cat, hands on her sword. And there was the wizard, Winski. His eyes were flat as he folded his hands inside his sleeves, but there was a slight smile on his face as he looked at something across her shoulder. Sarevok, I bet. Ouch. Just who is being tested here, anyway? There was another, younger wizard there as well, in dirty yellow robes and with an unsettling giggle, and the lumbering Tazok, ogre blood making him stand half as tall as the tallest man.
"Hello Zaerini," Other Her said, sounding calm as anything. Is that what my voice sounds like? Huh, doesn't sound like that in my head. "Do you require formal introductions?"
"The spikes are a bit of a dead giveaway," She replied, deliberately making her own tone more flippant. "Sorry to have to say it, Other Me, but you look like you're in the final stages of Bhaal Derangement Syndrome. Once the spikes set in, you'll soon end up with a case of Very Dead, one way or another."
"I am the you that followed a different path, entirely. The you taken in by the Iron Throne, rather than a Harper. The you that took full advantage of your heritage, rather than try to run away from it."
"I'm done with running away from it. I don't have that luxury anymore. That doesn't mean I have to spontaneously erupt in spikes and villainous monologues." And that's it, isn't it? That's why I made this place, why I made her. To show myself that even if I learn to use the power, I don't have to become her. I can do it differently. Sure, I'll still have to be careful, but it's not black and white.
Other Her nodded, seeming pleased. "Then," She said, "It appears we are at an impasse. If you wish to proceed, to go deeper in, you have to get past me. Be warned, I will not go easy on you as we battle."
I'd say that's my cue.
Not bothering to engage in further threats, posturing or banter, Rini made her move. Other Her was clearly going to fight like Sarevok once had, and so engaging in in a melee seemed like a bad idea. Instead, the bard cast a quick illusion spell, creating a false image of herself. While the illusion was less powerful than herself, it could still cast a few spells of its own and it proceeded to Mirror Image itself, making the warrior woman pause in confusion as she suddenly faced five identical opponents. The real Rini used that confusion to dodge and weave between the illusions and a quick invisibility potion later she slipped away entirely. Much better.
Other Her turned on Sarevok instead, sword against sword. She shouldn't have been able to stand against the tall man, but somehow, she was holding on, matching him blow for blow. Perhaps it was the Bhaalpowers within her, but she definitely was pressing Sarevok hard. Meanwhile, Minsc faced off against Tazok, another even battle for now.
Let's make it less even then.
She cast another spell, and Other Her blinked in confusion as she was suddenly teleported a short distance off to the side, her flank now open and vulnerable. Sarevok's sword found its way into a crack in that spiky armor, and Other Her winced, blood trickling down her leg even as she snarled, her eyes glowing bright as fire. While she didn't grow visibly larger, her blows became even fiercer than before, but the teleportation field still had her at a disadvantage. The same held true for Tazok, and Minsc also managed to get a few good blows in, though the hardy ogre wasn't yet much slowed by this.
Moving in on Tamoko, Rini suddenly felt as if she'd run face first into a wall, and though she tried to curse not a single word escaped her. Stunning spell. That meant at least one of the enemy wizards must have managed to get a True Sight spell off to spot her. Speaking of the enemy wizards, the younger wizard in the yellow robe was pointing a finger at her with an unholy grin on his face, and then she could see a greenish black blob of magical energy zooming through the air and straight for her face. She couldn't tell what it was, but she didn't doubt that it would be nasty. However, it harmlessly bounced off the magical sphere that suddenly sprang into existence around her, doing no damage at all.
Hamster ball time again? Thanks for having my back, Eddie.
She spared the wizard a quick nod and a wink, and he smiled back at her before launching into a complicated summoning spell, something to join the magical floating sword he'd already sent off to menace the enemy wizard. Imoen in turn was doing her best to distract Winski from spellcasting with a veritable hailstorm of enchanted arrows, and was doing a good job of it too, but then the older man's contingency spells slid into place, and the arrows started bouncing harmlessly off several layers of magical shields. Able to act freely, Winski lobbed a spell straight into the melee, and the ground started to hiss and crackle, flames bursting out of it and forcing Minsc and Sarevok to move out of the area affected by the spell and also out of the teleportation field that had aided them so far.
At last, the protective sphere enclosing her wore off, but so had the stunning spell and she was free to move again. She slipped across the battlefield as quickly and quietly as possible, coming up at Tamoko from behind just as she was about to strike Viconia who was entirely preoccupied with keeping Minsc on his feet. Then she grabbed the other woman's long braid in a tight grip and pulled as hard as she could. Tamoko staggered and stumbled backwards, and that was enough of a distraction for Rini to slip her sword neatly into the other woman's back. Tamoko gave a quiet sigh, and fell, blood spurting from her open mouth. Viconia smiled and followed up with a finishing blow to the head, then proceeded to cast some sort of spell which made Tazok howl with pain before going back to her healing.
One down, four to go. And where is…
On the other side of the battlefield, Winski, who was in the process of finishing a perfectly aimed Horrid Wilting, startled with surprise as all of his magical shields suddenly winked out. Then a second mouth opened all along his throat, smiling a wide, red, deadly smile, severed cartilage glinting like teeth in its depth. The croaking sounds emerging from that second mouth didn't sound much like any laughter Rini had ever heard before though, nor like any did she ever care to hear again. Behind the dying wizard a rippling shadow straightened and took on the form of a familiar silhouette, stark against the backdrop of howling and spinning green stars and drifting void.
Yep. There he is. He must have used a wand to take out Winski's defenses. But that will mean…
To be sure, Dekaras was just tucking a slim wand away, but he was hunched over with pain, and clearly having trouble moving as swiftly as before. It could be just the damage she knew he normally would inflict on himself with wand usage, but she rather thought Winski might have gotten some final magical attack off as well. In the meantime, Edwin had finished his conjuration spell and a very angry pack of werewolves had materialized on top of the younger wizard in the yellow robe and proceeded to make a very large mess of him. As one of Imoen's arrows pierced one of Tazok's piggy eyes and a second his throat, Minsc's sword bit deep into the half-ogre's belly, nearly severing him in two.
And then there were one.
Other Her had clearly noticed the same, and she howled with rage and frustration. "Fool!" She cried. "Do you think you have won so easily? You've beaten these conjured shades, mere manifestations of power. Now that power returns to me. In a moment I will be fully healed – and in the meantime you begone!"
The stars were gone, and there was darkness all around. She couldn't see anything at all, couldn't feel any ground under her feet, couldn't hear any voices or sounds of battle.
Am I dead?
No, that didn't seem right. She wasn't where she had been before, but she still had to be in the pocketplane. Other Her was part of it and couldn't very well send her anywhere else. This all had to be part of the test. As that thought came to her, some measure of vision returned as well. Other Her was floating before her in the void, eyes closed, surrounded by a sparkling green shield that seemed to pool and drip around her feet, rippling like water. Dark shapes slumped in those green pools, tentacles of power reaching out for them, gradually reducing them to empty husks. Her friends – no, not friends, she doesn't have friends. Minions. She's draining them of the power used to summon them, healing herself, powering up. I have to stop her before she's done, somehow. But how?
Where were her own friends? She looked around desperately, calling out in vain. The pools were glowing more brightly now, her twisted twin looking healthier by the moment. I'm doing this wrong. This is a test, a test to help me grow into the power. What am I supposed to do? She reached out again, this time not with her voice, or with her sight, or with her ears, but with another sense entirely for which she had no proper name. Souls. Souls connected by blood, by love, by friendship and common purpose. She could 'see' something else now, not with her eyes but with her mind. The best way to comprehend it was by thinking of it in visual terms though. In the deep darkness, spinning past almost too quickly to notice them, were several small lights, shining in different colours. They didn't seem to move according to any preordained pattern but rather erratically like fireflies, each one seemingly oblivious of the others. She didn't doubt that they were. Each one of us is trapped, in an equal pocket of darkness. I don't think the others can see, but I can. It's my job to bring us together again.
How to do that though, and where to start? There must be some trick to this, some order. She observed the lights again. Two of them were a little brighter, a little larger than the others. One was the vivid pink of a blooming rose, the other deep gold. Immy and Sarevok. The Bhaalblood makes them look a little different. I can see it more clearly like this. And there was something else as well. The burning gold light representing Sarevok was pulled gradually closer to her outstretched hand, moving so easily because the connection was already there, established before birth. She knew something else now, something the blood was telling her. Bhaal's power hadn't been divided equally among his offspring, she'd already known that. But now she could also sense the truth of how it worked, how it had seeped into the tiny bodies of the god's yet unborn children, choosing different entry points and always leaving some mark behind. In herself and Sarevok it had resulted in their matching eyes, and for a good reason too. They had received equal and identical parts of the divine spark, entirely matched like twins, though born to different mothers. Somehow, some part of them must have always known this, she thought. And so, she started with her brother, already instinctively drawn to her as he was, pulling him in close. Imoen came next, her sister and dearest friend, almost as well known to her as her own soul. Then the others, one by one, and it was getting easier and easier now she knew what she was doing. Finally, she was done, with them all closely orbiting her like planets around a sun and she could feel them so close to her, all of them, soul to soul.
Time to finish this.
"You're such a loser," She told Other Her, and the other woman's eyes widened with fear. "You use the power to drain those around you like a vampire. I don't do that. I don't want to, and I don't need to. I'm stronger than you, and I do this." The Bhaalpower exploded out of her and she shattered the darkness in a kaleidoscope of spinning lights, her own strength bouncing back and forth, magnified and reflected between herself and her friends as she seized control of it. Other Her shrieked as shards of light, sharp like daggers, pierced her body from all sides, and then she was gone, a puddle of black ooze on the ground all that remained.
"Whew," Zaerini said, looking at her friends standing in a circle around her, all of them with slightly stunned looks on their faces. "That was pretty intense, huh? What say I try conjuring us a few drinks before we take off to the desert?"
"I think," Sarevok slowly said, "after this little episode a full bar would seem more appropriate."
Approximately two hours and an indeterminate amount of sand later…
"Sorry, guys," Zaerini said with an apologetic shrug. "I really thought I'd developed more precision by now, but it seems when I'm going to a place I haven't been before the portals still want to go of course a bit."
"Aw, don't worry, Rini," Imoen said, wrapping an arm around her waist to give her a reassuring hug. "I bet this Amkethran place is just across the next dune."
"That's what you said three dunes, two mirages and one group of roaming desert bandits ago," Edwin muttered. "Could we dial down on the sickeningly sweet optimism before it contributes even further to my imminent death by dehydration?"
Imoen gave him an impish grin. "Well, conjure us up a nice magical tent filled with cool drinks and ice-cream, then. Or at least some water, I thought all wizards could manage that. Or conjure yourself into a camel and you can keep going for hours, plus we could take turns riding on your back." She poked the irate wizard between the shoulder blades, neatly sidestepping him when he swatted at her. "Is that the beginning of a hump I see there?" Despite the blistering heat of the scorching desert the group had found themselves in, she was rather enjoying this. She'd never been to a desert before, after all.
"I'll give you a hump or two, you annoying little…"
"Focus, please," Dekaras interrupted, neatly placing himself between the two of them. The assassin had put his normal protective leather gear away for the moment, but even so was managing an impressively cold demeanor for somebody wearing all black in the middle of the desert. "This is not the time or place for wasting precious energy on arguments."
"In case of emergency I can always whisk us all back to the pocket plane," Zaerini said. "But the thing is, if I do, we may end up back where we started when I try to get us back here. I really want to keep going unless we've got no other choice."
"Sorry Rini," Imoen readily apologized. She really hadn't meant to add to her best friend's worries, it was just that Edwin could be so very much fun to poke. Looking out across the endless dunes again, she marveled at the way the air shimmered under the molten sun, and how the air felt almost on fire as it entered her lungs. It was mostly quiet, other than the sound of their own thudding footsteps against the sand and the occasional rustle in the sand as something small, skittish and possibly poisonous slithered away. It wasn't nice, exactly, but it was definitely interesting. A thought occurred to her. "This looks like the kind of place that'd have genies. Think we could find one? Or a flying carpet. Oooh, that'd be nice. Eddie, could you make us a flying carpet?" She poked the wizard in the side. "And fly us straight across the desert to a new magical world of frosty drinks and palm trees?"
"I'll show you a whole new world of eternal suffering if you don't stop touching me!"
"Look!" Viconia called out, shading her sensitive eyes against the sun with a slim, dark-skinned hand. "Are those trees?"
Imoen looked up. Yes, there was definitely something there, other than sand, sun, and more sand. "Palm trees!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "It's an oasis! Frosty drinks next!"
"Careful," Sarevok warned her. "Don't do what you did with that last mirage and dive headfirst into a sand dune, because if you do then you can dig yourself out this time."
"Poor Boo needs his shade," a worried Minsc added. "Even the stoutest of hamsters is still clad in silky warm fur." Imoen looked at the small animal resting in Minsc's palm. Boo's small, pink tongue was sticking out the corner of his mouth, and he was panting. For some reason he was also wearing a tiny straw hat with holes for his ears to poke through. For a moment she thought about asking where he'd got it, but then decided against it. With Minsc and Boo, sometimes it was better not to know too much. Minsc himself, as well as Sarevok, had reluctantly removed his metal armour in order not to get boiled inside it, and while his face was a little pinker than normal, he seemed otherwise in good shape. Isn't Rasheman mostly a cold country? But then again, it's pretty big.
The trees were definitely coming closer, so it wasn't just a mirage this time, thankfully. Now she could see water as well, glittering between them, and she could almost taste it already. After I've had a nice drink, I think I'll stick my head underwater for a little bit. And then lie about in the shade under the biggest palm-tree I can find, unless it's already been taken by one of the soldiers in that army and…what?
The oasis, far from being the secluded and restful paradise she'd been hoping for seemed to be very much occupied already, by a group of soldiers who'd apparently also felt the urge for a break from sun and sand. Ok, maybe it wasn't a full army, but it was definitely at least a couple of dozen armed soldiers. Some carried shields and swords, others bows or crossbows, but all were geared for desert travel in relatively loosely fitting clothes under their breastplates. Rats. Guess we'll have to share the best tree then.
One of the lookouts had spotted the group by now, for he gave a call to his fellows who quickly came trotting up towards the adventurers. This close up, Imoen didn't think they looked particularly friendly. They didn't have their weapons out yet, but from the wary looks on their faces she figured that could change quickly. One of them, a tall man with a rather impressive black mustache and shinier armour than the rest, had a particularly fierce scowl.
"You there," He said. "I am Jamis Tombelthen, General of the Tethyran army. What is your errand in this region?"
"We're just fellow travelers on the road, General," Zaerini said with a warm smile that Imoen suspected was entirely fake. "We're on a lengthy journey and this seems a convenient rest stop. The water will be enough for all of us, won't it?"
"The water is not an issue," Tombelthen said, not taking his eyes off the bard. "Your identity is. You haven't by any chance traveled through the city of Saradush, have you?"
"We had considered it," Edwin said. "Regrettably, the persistent rain of flaming rocks as well as the loudly shouting giants outside the walls detracted from the 'rustic charm' listed in the guidebook and so we decided to move on the next dusty and no doubt flea infested measly hovel daring to call itself a city in this pit of a country. (Does no other nation but Thay have the wits to master civilized climate control?)"
The closest soldiers looked more than a little put out about the wizard's remark, but the general raised his hand before they could make a move. "I think there is more to your story than that," He said with an unpleasant chuckle. "I think you have come from Saradush, and more than that. I think you are some of the Bhaalspawn responsible for the utter destruction and devastation of that city, and the very ones whose bounties I have been sent to collect by the Queen of Tethyr herself."
"Hey!" Imoen shouted, struck by the unfairness of this. "That's not right. We didn't destroy any city. Yaga-Shura did that."
"Another Bhaalspawn, so I gather. A famous one, as is his killer." Tombelthen pointed at Zaerini. "Word has spread of your exploits, for I have no doubt you are the one called Zaerini. You will not be allowed to raise an army of your own, Bhaalspawn. If you come quietly, your death may be merciful. If not…"
"I told you already," Zaerini said, her eyes now glowing brightly, a clear danger signal. "I'm…"
"…needlessly escalating things," Dekaras interrupted. The assassin gave the irate Tombelthen a calm nod. "General, I assure you, these are not the Bhaalspawn you are looking for. My dear daughter here has yet to learn the value of silence and keeping up the appropriate image."
For a moment, Imoen almost thought she was about to watch her best friend punch her mentor in the throat. Then, the glow in Zaerini's eyes subsided, her eyes narrowed with thought and she gave a curt nod. "I'm so sorry, dear Father," She said. "I forgot myself."
Out of the corner of her eyes, Imoen could just about notice Edwin's lips moving quietly, almost inaudibly as he muttered something under his breath. She determinedly looked away so as not to draw unwanted attention to what the wizard was doing.
"Your daughter?" Tombelthen asked. "She doesn't look much like you."
"Recessive traits, dear General," Dekaras said. "Surely you've heard of those. I hope you're not implying anything untoward on the part of my honorable wife."
"No, I…"
"At any rate, we forgive the misunderstanding, given the red hair. But surely you must be aware that the real Zaerini is a great deal taller, a fire giantess to rival Yaga-Shura himself. How else could she have vanquished him so easily?" The assassin leaned forward, practically whispering into the General's ear. "I heard she ripped his still beating heart from his chest and ate it in front of his eyes. You are a brave man indeed, brave as a lion of the desert for wishing to fight her, and may the gods grant you a swift and merciful death should you fail. Either way, you shall have your wish soon, for we are ourselves fleeing her wrath and she is even now hot on our heels."
Tombelthen's eyes widened suddenly as he stared at something out in the desert. Imoen turned around, unable to suppress a gasp even though she'd already guessed what she might see. There was a fearsome figure standing there, some ways out across the dunes, far taller than a human, with burning hair and flaming eyes, her face and hands smeared with gore. It bore a very vague resemblance to Zaerini, in the same way that a tiger might be said to resemble a cat. It opened its mouth, baring long fangs, and licked its lips as it surveyed the assembled human soldiers.
"How lucky you are, General," Zaerini said in a sickly-sweet voice. "You won't have to waste any more time searching now. The fearsome Bhaalspawn has found you, and now you can just charge into battle."
Tombelthen's face had gone strangely rigid, and rather pale. "Ahem." He spoke. "Men. Charge! In the meantime, I will be…be…"
"Reviewing strategy behind the front, sir?" A rather sour-faced soldier standing behind the General suggested.
"Yes! Quite. I'll be doing that. Off you go now!"
The soldiers shuffled off rather reluctantly, with Tombelthen following them at a safe distance, and there was a brief pause once they had all disappeared across the closest dune.
"How long would you say that Silent Image will last?" Dekaras asked.
"Oh, long enough for us to have a nice drink and refill our waterskins to be certain," Edwin said with a rather smug smile. "I've been practicing since we last used this particular gambit, to make the selected illusion durable and mobile according to prescribed patterns."
"I'm never getting rid of this 'heart eater' rumour now," Zaerini said with a huff. "But I guess it worked out nicely, and it's way too hot to be fighting unless we have to. We'd better get a move on though, before they figure the trick out and come back."
"I'm all in favour of that plan," Viconia said, wiping her brow. "Dare I hope this 'Amkethran' place is nicely cool, with comfortable dwellings, congenial inhabitants and a shortage of sand?"
"Maybe," Zaerini said. "Want to bet your favourite comb against my emergency stash of cookies?"
"On second thought, I believe I will pass."
"Welcome to Amkethran, everyone," Zaerini said as she peered across a ledge of jagged red rocks and into the valley below. "It's…well…"
"Ooooh, Minsc knows! Is it a wretched hive of scum and villainy, little Rini? Boo could do with a good bit of exercise."
"Maybe. But if it is, it's a pretty small hive. Still, maybe it's got hidden depths, you never know."
"Boo will dig with all the fervor of his great heart and ferret out all butts in need of kicking!"
Imoen moved forward so that she could see what her friends were looking at. By now the group had passed from the open dunes and into a maze of winding canyons, and the path they were following would shortly take them into one of those and into Amkethran itself. Just as Rini had hinted, the town wasn't exactly large, not compared to Athkatla at any rate. Still, there were a fair amount of building down there, mostly square with flat roofs, situated along the walls of the canyon and in some cases even climbing up them with twisty streets winding back and forth. From this distance she couldn't tell much more, except there was another oasis where water might be had, and a river leading off in the opposite direction from which they were coming. There was a large building too, much larger than the others, with a shining roof and tall walls.
"That will be Balthazar's abode," Viconia nodded as she saw what Imoen was looking at. "Shall we go and introduce ourselves, or attempt subterfuge?"
"The first, I guess," Rini said with a small frown. "For now. Melissan was letting him know we were coming, so he'll know who we are anyway. Let's see what we can make of him but try not to give too much information unless we must."
As they walked into town, they started coming across other people, mostly wearing loose, light clothing that Imoen suspected would feel good in this heat. But I could do with some ice cream too. A great, big bucket of ice cream.
There was something about the people of the town that seemed somehow off to her, and at first, she couldn't put her finger on what it was. There were shopkeepers selling their wares, laborers trying to keep to the shade as much as possible, women fetching water or doing the shopping. It all seemed normal enough, but there was definitely something missing.
Huh. That's weird. Where are all the kids?
There should have been children playing in the streets, but she saw not a single one. The shopping women, the working men…they seemed normal enough at first, but then she noticed something else. Everybody was completely focused on whatever task they were on; nobody had stopped to chat with a neighbor or just mill around browsing the wares, and they all kept their eyes on the ground. They were all much too quiet, and if they noticed the group of odd strangers, they certainly gave no indication of it.
Something's wrong. They all look tense. Even scared? Yes, at least some of them. Some look angry.
She slowed her steps a little, drawing close to Dekaras who was also scanning the crowds. "These people…" She murmured. "Something's badly wrong here."
"I see it. I suspect these people are being extremely careful not to attract any of the wrong sort of attention. Look there."
He looked towards an intersection to the right of them, and as Imoen turned her head she saw what he meant. There was a group of men there, standing out from the crowd. They were all wearing loose ochre tunics and trousers, their heads had all been shaved completely bald, and though she could see no obvious weapons they all looked muscular and strong. Their faces were calm, stony even.
"Balthazar's monks, I guess," Zaerini said with a small grimace. "Tough crowd. Wonder if we should just walk up and ask them for directions?"
As it happened, that turned out not to be necessary. From up ahead, there came a sound. At first it was a low murmur, but it gradually grew louder and louder, a steady chant that reminded Imoen uncomfortably of war drums or clanking chains in a jail. It consisted of a single word, repeated over and over again.
"Balt…Balt…Balthazar. Balt…Balt…Balthazar. Balthazar! Balthazar!"
As the group turned another corner, the chant became a din, and they found themselves directly facing the origin of the noise. This group of monks was large, perhaps a dozen or so, and they formed a protective circle around a lone man walking in their midst. He, too, was wearing the garments of a monk, but his were a rusty red, and rather than having shaved his head completely bald he had saved a rather silly fringe of hair in a circle around it. But that was a distraction, Imoen decided, because silly hair or not this man was definitely powerful. She could fairly feel it radiating from him, like the warmth of the sun, or a low hum just beneath the threshold of hearing.
"So," He said in a steady, monotonous voice. He sounded pretty disinterested, but Imoen thought that was a ruse as well. He was watching her sister with keen interest, even if his face hardly moved a muscle. "You would be Zaerini, I assume. And your…entourage."
"That's me," Rini said with a warm smile that Imoen felt sure was entirely fabricated. "And you – no, don't say anything, let me guess. Why, you must be Balthazar! I'm right, aren't I? I can tell I am. Maybe I'm psychic, do you think I'm psychic?"
"Very droll," Balthazar droned on. "I received word that you might make your way here, and that you might be interested in the whereabouts of some certain people. You may move around the town, and if you require an inn, there is a tolerable one at the west end of the bazaar, named 'The Sluggish Saurus'. I will have the necessary documentation sent to you there, along with your official forms, the folder with the town rules including appendixes, and of course your visas. I strongly advice you not to wander the streets without them, my men are tasked with upholding law and order and will not look favorably on vagabonds."
"Melissan said that…"
"Our mutual acquaintance may have made requests of me, and I will honour them, but that is the extent of it. You will be given what you require, you will cause no disorder, or you will regret it. Good day to you."
With that he simply turned around and walked off in the general direction of the large building they had previously seen from afar, and the monks once again took up their chanting.
"You were right, Minsc," Zaerini said, staring hard at the retreating back of the stern-faced Balthazar. "It's definitely a wretched hive of something. Let's find out what."