Chapter 10
What's he like?
Synchronicity, for some unexplained reason, decided to work on Arundel and the golem, depositing the party in sight of a forest clearing, right in the middle of nowhere, unless one counted the group of ten drow at the other side of the clearing. There was one of those frozen moments as both sides stared at each other, then Yoshimo reacted first, bowstring thrumming as he notched and loosed an arrow in a fluid move.
To their astonishment, the arrow disappeared once it left his hands. The thief stared at the bow, then began to turn to question Y'vair - but a strangled gurgle from the drow side caused him to hesitate. The arrow had reappeared - buried in the exact centre of the priestess' throat. She clawed at it desperately, grasping hold of the thin shaft, fell back against a tree, then collapsed, still twitching.
This time, the drow reacted first, shouting out what sounded like a warcry, and raised their hands, flicking up something small and metallic.
"Behind the trees!" Entreri yanked John, the closest, behind a goodly- sized oak, as the rest took cover and none too soon - with a spiteful buzz, a tiny bolt shot past them, where John had been standing, to bury itself into another tree. John mumbled thanks to the werewolf as he held Firetooth, the hilt warm in his sweating palms - but Entreri had gone. Minutes later, a lupine growl and a feline snarl spiced with screams signaled that the dark elves had encountered the panther and the werewolf. Heavy tread through undergrowth could be heard, and John belatedly realized the golem had charged - Arundel himself unhooked his crossbow from his belt, cocked it deftly, then stepped lightly out of cover, firing. Something ricocheted off his armor with a ringing sound, and barely missed John's nose.
A tiny bolt, shaft still quivering, buried itself into the tree next to him.
This had the net effect of shocking his muscles into motion, and he looked cautiously out from behind his tree.
By the looks of it, the drow were not having a good day. Two were down, not counting the dead priestess, and the rest had been harried into the clearing, where Yoshimo and Arundel were using them as target practice. This didn't really sound like the advantage it did - the elves moved incredibly fast, and the two had to avoid hitting Entreri and the panther as well.Entreri had, for some reason, resumed his human shape, and was fighting three warriors at one go, aided by the cat. The mage looked somewhat wild around the eyes as his spells dissipated around the golem, and as John watched, the thing sprang forward, all impossible grace and speed, and smashed in the mage's skull with heavy front hooves. The remaining two were harassing Y'vair, so John aimed and threw Firetooth, the hot taste of adrenaline in his throat. He felt the odd urge to shout something suitably savage.
Bloody hell. He really needed some sort of sedative, if this mood was going to be permanent.
The dagger flared red as it spun through the air, into the head of one of the drow - then vanished and reappeared in front of John. Since he hadn't been expecting this, he didn't catch it, and it fell point-first into the ground, nearly impaling his foot. Muttering about magic items, John philosophically fished his sling from his pocket, in time to see Y'vair manipulate the warrior until his back was facing Arundel. As it turned out, full-plate armor really can't withstand a crossbow bolt.
The party of ten, by this time, had but one left - a warrior, rather good, by John's critical eye as he recovered his dagger - coolly engaging Entreri. The assassin had been cut in some places, but he seemed to ignore the wounds, teeth bared in a soundless snarl as he dodged and parried, ducked low, and slashed viciously at the warrior's kneecaps, with what looked like unnecessary force.
Abruptly there wasn't so much as a change in the sound of the area as a sudden feel in the air, like a muted sonic crackle, and a circular void appeared directly between Entreri and the warrior, who seemed to freeze into place as the blue-edged black circle roared hollowly in their ears, and yet appeared to make no sound.
Entreri recovered from his follow-through with what resembled nearly superhuman effort, as if he had to drag his weapon forward through treacle, and then the sword sliced through the void. After that, events got rather crowded.
John later remembered it (especially late at night) as a sequence, because it made his head ache less. The void had flickered and disappeared, and then an invisible wave of force had flattened out on the ground, ripping up grass and soil, picking up Entreri, the panther, and Y'vair, and flinging them away like puppets. Trees directly in front of the void immediately disappeared, as did the warrior, simply blasted into nothingness by the tightly channeled force - quite a few trees. A boulevard several metres wide was blasted open, and went on for some distance.
Bloody hell!
John, mouth dry, picked himself up from where he had been knocked down by the force of the blast, and looked shakily around. The golem was still standing, but Arundel was down and staring up at the sky, cursing colorfully. One ankle was bent in a painful and unnatural angle - possibly broken. Y'vair stood up from some bushes, wincing as she picked leaves from her hair, and a wet nose pushed into his trousers alerted him to the fact that the panther was all right. Yoshimo was staring at Entreri's sword with stunned awe, and the assassin was thoughtfully studying Vortex from where he was sitting down, knocked against a tree.
Having taken this inventory, and forcing down the urge to cheerfully inquire if everyone was all right, John rummaged in his pockets, found and lit a cigarette.
"Never knew adventuring could be such a blast. Warn us next time, mate."
"Gods." Y'vair blinked, rubbed her eyes, then blinked again. "I wonder if that's what it meant by magic resistance."
"Blowing away the mage before the poor sod can cast anything?"
"It's highly effective, sparrow," Y'vair said, poker-faced. "Sometimes, when mages realize their spells aren't working, their next move is to hit the victim repeatedly with a staff. Why do you think those poles are so bulky?" She stumbled over to Arundel and glanced at the ankle. "Damn. Can you get up?"
"Theoretically," Arundel said, squeezing his eyes shut, "Except that getting up when one is in full plate armor is always a little difficult. Can you ask me again when the world stops spinning?"
A rustling sound told John that Entreri had gotten up, and the assassin sheathed the sword reverently. His ascetic, handsome face suddenly broke into a taut grin. "By the gods, that was fun."
"Fun?" Yoshimo's voice was slightly shrill. "What if one of us had been standing somewhere in front of you?"
"But none of us had been," Entreri pointed out logically. "I'd try not to do it next time."
"Next time?"
"I think a vortex is created when the sword's swung back with some force," Entreri continued, oblivious to the sputtering thief. "Quite interesting. I wonder what would have happened if I didn't slash through it?" Yoshimo rolled his eyes, then went about retrieving his arrows carefully. As an afterthought, he picked up all the still serviceable crossbow bolts as well.
Y'vair looked up with a pained expression, as she probed Arundel's ankle. John helped her remove some of the metal gear, muttering as his fingers began to complain loudly. Why did paladins have to wear metal boots? Metal trousers, metal gloves, metal breastplate, metal greaves, backplate, helmet.it was amazing those turtles could even move. "Don't experiment too much, assassin. For all you know, it might blow us all up." She glanced down as the elf whimpered. "Stop being a baby."
"Me? A baby?" Arundel put on a scandalized expression. "Just because it feels like someone is trying to mold my ankle into some grotesque sculpture.ow! Ow! Watch where you're putting your clumsy fingers! And it's going to take me forever to will my armor back into shape."
"Imagine that. The first elf I've ever met who actually whines." Y'vair winked at John. "Mark down this day, sparrow. It's a milestone in civilization as we know it."
"I do not whine!"
**
They got to Athkatla just before the gates closed for the night, and managed to sell off most of the loot, except for those see-in-sunlight circlets that the drow had, which were currently just twisted pieces of metal stomped into the ground a ways outside the city. No one seemed to notice the golem - or if they were of enough power to see it, Arundel explained, they'd only see a normal horse. A temple had taken care of the twisted ankle - it was amazing what healing spells could do.
The Copper Coronet was in a greater state of order now - the bodies had been cleared, the knights and children had gone, and Bernard, the barkeeper, was studiously polishing the counter. Hendak was nowhere to be seen, but other than that, the building was still extremely noisy and rather crowded. Realizing their 'discount' from association with Hendak was still in effect, they managed to get beds for the night - one per person, even, after they partook of some of the greasy roast for dinner. The stairs didn't even creak when the golem trotted up them - apparently it was levitating slightly.
After shaving and taking a bath, John lay on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, listening to mice behind the paneling squeak nervously as they smelled the panther, but couldn't see it. For its part, the cat was sprawled on the carpet, purring to itself.
This world was getting very unnerving. Compulsions to say and do things that under normal circumstances he wouldn't even consider doing even if the First of the Fallen were to blackmail him into it.that odd sensation of a fight having taken place when he woke up from sleep. And too many things were trying to kill him, but in retrospect, this was practically normal.
He turned his head idly. Firetooth was under the pillow - another peculiarity. On Earth, he couldn't remember the last time he actually attempted to wield a weapon for what a weapon was actually made for, unless he counted the time that he tried to drive off lesser demons from the Hellish stock market with a sword. Fat lot of good that had done - the demons had merely turned the sword into a dollar sign. Ha, ha.
And what was he trying to do? Chasing after a magician so much more powerful than he was - no, that wasn't too strange - he'd gone against things that could, if they wanted to, obliterate him with a thought before. But just that, this time, he was doing it without a plan, and for the life of him he couldn't think of anything to do about it. Maybe it was this bloody world, trying to gear the party into one of those Famous Last Stands, so named because, after it, the party was likely to be lying down stone dead. But the magician Irenicus was probably the one who'd brought him here, and blocked up the link to the Dreaming - he didn't even have normal dreams anymore, so finding him should.
Hmph. On Earth, he would have been able to find out how to get 'back' himself, bugger Irenicus. Given enough time, he could find anything (except, of course, things about Jason Blood). But this world was magically more unstable - even if its magic seemed a lot more constrained by rules. Lord knew what would happen if he attempted to tinker with things like demon summoning.
He had to rely on himself, but if even synchronicity was working at bugger-all efficiency, what about the trickier sorts of magic? On this world, he had no favors to call in, no connections...and his books were probably at least a galaxy away.
The sense of displacement was severely daunting.
Not for the first time in his life, John had no idea whatsoever as to how to proceed.
"Bloody hell."
The door creaked open, and he immediately stuck his hand under his pillow, groping for the knife, as the panther rose to its feet with a growl. John realized belatedly why it was never a good idea to reach for sharp weapons without looking where one put his fingers. The cat settled back down with a purr of recognition, and then began to lick one of its massive paws.
He sucked on the shallow cut on his finger, grimacing slightly at the coppery taste of blood, as Y'vair entered the door and closed it behind her. The panther sniffed, seemed to blink, cocked its head to one side, then padded up towards the door, where after it patted the wood a few times, Y'vair got the hint and let it out. John raised an eyebrow as the bard sat down next to him on the bed.
He realized belatedly that she was only dressed in a plain white robe that had somehow become more...loose.
"There's a problem I believe you're qualified to help me with, sparrow," Y'vair leant forward slightly, and smiled.
"Oh?" John took his finger out of his mouth to get a better view. Blood welled up again; dull crimson on callused skin.
"It has to do with our.predicament. Hasn't it gone on long enough?" So saying, Y'vair gently but firmly took his wrist, and licked the blood away slowly, swirling her pink tongue around it in a way that made his breathing quicken.
"If you put it that way, luv."
**
As the sun rose into later in the morning the party wandered around buying supplies, then Arundel took them to the mage's house. "We'd speak to K'yanae's father, then I have a friend we'd probably have to meet, if we want to get to Brynnlaw."
John shrugged. Last night had been very interesting, and this morning the panther's expression had been one of almost-amusement and almost-curiosity, oddly enough, as though it had vaguely expected this to happen, but when it did, it was still mildly bewildered. Yoshimo said that the cat had chosen to go sleep on the carpet in his room and shot John a look of curiosity, but however the cat had sensed that Y'vair was going to do something, John had absolutely no idea.
"You have it!" the mage exclaimed eagerly when all of them were crowded into his living room, fingers trembling as they took the Dark Sighing from Entreri and put it on. "At last."
"Your promise, friend," Entreri said, stressing on the last word, somehow emphasizing that, if Entreri really wanted to, the status of 'friend' could change to 'dead foe'. The assassin was positively vibrating with suppressed energy today. Any moment now, John half-expected him to start bouncing off the walls.
"Of course, of course.this way please. And Arundel, it's wonderful to see you again."
"And you," Arundel grinned. "Though we have to work on your idea of passwords."
The mage grinned sheepishly as he led them upstairs - though the golem stayed in the living room, unmoving as a statue. The furnishing of the rest of the house was almost Spartan, and the room they were led into was totally bare except for a large full-length mirror fixed to a wall, the frame plain metal, totally unadorned. On a first glance, John wouldn't even have given it a thought.
Arundel's mage friend touched the Dark Sighing as if for reassurance, then began to chant in a sonorous voice, fingers weaving abstract designs into the air while Entreri walked in a tight circle. "I wonder if the mirror can scry K'yanae."
"If she's in Spellhold, I'd advise against it," Arundel said, "Gods know what sort of wards they have against scrying, there."
"The Citadel has wards as well," Entreri pointed out.
"Ah, but our mage friend is doing something like 'knocking'. The Spellhold may not even recognize it.and I doubt you want to be in the midst of an expanding fireball."
"Quiet, you two," Y'vair said, pointing. Their reflection in the mirror wavered, and then coalesced to show a room that was more richly furnished than this one. John hadn't seen that many wands in one place before. There were two mages in the room, one female, and one male, who stared at them warily, looking at each of their faces before settling on Entreri. Arundel's friend seemed relieved. Apparently the Dark Sighing had worked after all - there wasn't any sort of magical retribution from the Cowled Wizards.
The assassin inclined his head to them. "May we speak to your master Duke Do'Urden? It concerns the location of the Lady K'yanae."
The mages held a whispered conversation, and then the female left the room. Once the door closed, the remaining mage spoke tentatively. "Where is she? The collar broke contact some time ago, and we haven't been able to locate her since.remote sensing told us she wasn't anywhere near you. The family's very worried.and Namaen's gone as well."
Something clicked in John's head - this mage spoke as though K'yanae was a relative, and though human, he had amber eyes.werewolf? Did this explain Entreri's sudden formality?
"It is precisely because of that which I have to speak with the Duke." Entreri said stiffly. John got the idea that he didn't particularly like the 'family'.but why that was so, John really didn't bother. They were saved from this awkward moment when the door practically flew open to reveal a dark elf dressed in chain mail armor, cloak negligently buckled on at one shoulder, the clasp and surcoat sporting a design of a black talon, the same symbol, John noted, emblazoned on the robes of the mages. He was armed, and superbly muscled, moving with the grace and confidence of a trained warrior.
Behind him was a woman with gorgeous auburn hair, but other than that, unremarkable features, dressed in a plain but well made blue dress that hugged the hips but flowed down to the ankles. Both the dark elf and the women had amber eyes - John surmised that these two were Zaknafein and Neira, K'yanae's parents.
"Where is she?" Zaknafein began by demanding. "And who are these people?"
After the situation had been explained, Zaknafein's face seemed to shut down into some sort of icy fury that seemed more dangerous than Entreri could ever be, rather like a tightly coiled spring about to unwind all at once, if it had the chance. The party had mentioned the fact that Namaen was dead - something that caused several amber-eyed soldiers at the doorway to hiss in anger. Looking around tentatively, John realized that all his companions were staring at the dark elf with a sense of awe, as they would in the presence of a living legend. After having had Zaknafein's exploits explained to him beforehand, John could understand why.
"I see," he said, each word a growl. "Brynnlaw." He turned on the curious soldiers lining the doorway outside. "You! Find Vorkai and send the fox here. He should still be in the Citadel - his ship sails only tomorrow." As the soldier saluted and left, Zaknafein seemed to study their faces, his piercing eyes unreadable. They stopped on the panther, and he blinked.
"Guenhwyvar?"
The panther yawned at him, then rubbed against John's legs. Zaknafein frowned, then seemed to shrug the fact off as unimportant. Perhaps the panther had an alternate personality here?
"What will we do?" Neira asked quietly.
Zaknafein chewed his lip absently. "Send in a chosen force and take her out sounds attractive, though sneaking Talons past Athkatla borders would be chancy."
"If they don't wear the uniforms." Entreri ventured.
"Oh. Congratulations," Zaknafein made a gesture at his throat, where a collar similar to Entreri's was worn.
Entreri smiled slightly, a thin, cold smile. "Perhaps."
"You'd control it in time," Neira said encouragingly. At this point of time, a tall, stooped man with cynical blue eyes entered the room, and bowed respectfully. "Your Grace?"
"No time for that," Zaknafein said, a little hastily. "What do you know of Brynnlaw?"
"The pirate island?"
"So you know how to get there?"
"No." The man, probably Vorkai, raised a hand when Zaknafein opened his mouth. "I know of it - island in the middle of an area that generates tropical storms and has hidden reefs. Charming place, if you ignore those, the occasional githyanki that are supposed to be in the area, and the other pirates. I can't remember the leader's name at the moment - pirate politics are vicious and chaotic - but he'd be in league with the Cowled Wizards that run the Spellhold deep in the island. It's supposedly an impenetrable fortress - all the ways in are hopelessly warded, and it's a maximum security prison with no parole."
Zaknafein grimaced. "So sieging the place is not a good idea?"
"Definitely not, unless you wish to lose a large number of Talons," Vorkai looked curious as to why he was being asked about this. "And the Wizards are allied with Athkatla authority, so politically."
"Hmph. I can't sit an army at the border and demand they give up one of their prisoners?"
"They won't do it," Vorkai said, "There are a lot of Cowled wizards, and they're a very rich arcane order - they could buy the mercenaries needed to match our numbers, if they needed to. That's why they can afford to be based in Athkatla. Besides, they want to keep the image of Spellhold as a no-way-out place, to intimidate all the mages they extract blood money from. I've been to Athkatla several times before - and I hate that place."
Zaknafein sighed. "Can 'adventurers' land on the island, then?"
"Possibly, but too large a group would arouse comment - and the Wizards are very good at getting information." Vorkai grimaced. "Trust me on this. It'd be better to place people there who have no connection to the Talons at all, if you're planning on sneaking Lady K'yanae out of Spellhold."
There was a strained pause.
"Very quick," Zaknafein said grudgingly. Vorkai smiled slightly.
"A stupid pirate is a dead pirate, your Grace."
"Do you know anything else about Spellhold? Like where the prisoners are kept, how." Entreri spoke up.
"No," Vorkai said immediately. "Spellhold's location itself is a rather closely-guarded secret - only pirates, Cowled wizards, and a few others know of it. I have no idea where Brynnlaw itself is on a map - just a general idea of where it should be in the Pirate Isles."
"I can get us there," Arundel spoke up. "I know someone who might be able to put a certain captain in our way."
"And that captain is?" Vorkai asked professionally.
"Saemon Havarian. Perhaps you've heard of it."
Vorkai blinked. "Are you sure you want to use him?"
"What about it?" Zaknafein asked suspiciously.
"He's a famous.infamous, I should think." Vorkai made a face. "He's adventurous, daring, mischievous, and a total scoundrel."
"This? From you?" Neira grinned.
"He'd be easy to bribe - but if he gets a better offer, he'd sell you to anyone. If you can find him."
"We should be," Arundel nodded.
"Right," Zaknafein said decisively. "Entreri, you take your party with you and reach Brynnlaw. We'd give you something for you to use to contact us once you're there." he stared pointedly at the mages until one of them bowed, grinned and left. "And then you wait there while we come for you, and scout around. Do not try to enter the fortress itself until we get a location point on you - getting killed would not be helpful, or any heroic stunts, understand?"
Entreri bowed without comment, accepting the command even if John doubted that the assassin was actually under Zaknafein's jurisdiction.
"After that, I damn well don't believe Black Talon's finest can't do anything about extracting my daughter.or that enough of Talon mages can't destroy this Irenicus.I'd lead them myself. We'd continue searching up information on this Spellhold here and on this Irenicus until you give us the signal. Good luck. Do you need money?" Zaknafein's manner was brusque, curt with anticipation.
Entreri looked to Arundel.
The elf shook his head. "You can always pay us back," he said mischievously. "If we have to bribe people."
Zaknafein nodded impatiently. "Anything else, then?"
John decided, in the face of matters, not to raise the question whether he really wanted to go and invade a fortress full of mages on an island full of pirates. Y'vair shot him a faint smile, and Yoshimo, a slight shrug. There wasn't anything else they could do, at the moment, except allow themselves to be swept along.
Entreri exchanged a few more vague courtesies with Neira - and one of the mages returned with a small box.
"Magical flare," Zaknafein explained. "I have no idea how it works, so long as it does." He raised an eyebrow at the mages, who grinned at him, then began murmuring in unison.
"Hold out your hand," one of them instructed Entreri, who complied. The box - a cube that could be easily concealed in a palm - disappeared abruptly and after a few seconds, reappeared on Entreri's hand.
"When you want to use it, there's a ruby on the lid and two sapphires on either side. You have to press down all three at once," one of the mages instructed. "And don't put it in the collar. The dimensional flux there seems to ruin the box."
"Is it fragile?" Entreri turned the box over, examining it curiously.
"Not really.just don't put in the way of a strong magical blast. Oh, and don't soak it in water. One of the components melt in water."
Entreri nodded, and put it away.
"Go, then," Zaknafein waved a hand in dismissal, and the reflection blurred back to that which one sees in a conventional mirror.
**
"What's he like?" Y'vair asked Entreri when the party walked out of the building. "Zaknafein, I mean."
"Him?" Entreri rubbed his clean-shaven chin. "Very, very intelligent, a master strategist, intuitive, cunning, calculated - under him the Talons expanded from a small group of about a hundred or so to the power it is today. And of course, he is the finest warrior I've ever met."
"Fought him before?" John inquired, not really out of curiosity.or maybe it was. There was something very compelling about the dark elf.
"Yes," Entreri made a face. "Sometimes my hip still aches in cold weather. He moves like a snake, and if you add that to the werewolf strength, his sword Khazid'hea and the centuries of experience."
"I've heard he follows no god," Arundel said, his demeanor casual, almost artificially so.
"That is true. He does follow a higher authority though.higher than the Gods, I believe," Entreri remarked. "K'yanae called them Asur, and Zaknafein is their representative here."
"Higher than the Gods? How is that possible?" Arundel's eyes widened.
"I have no idea," Entreri admitted. "I didn't really understand K'yanae when she was explaining it to me. We were a little.distracted at that time." He smiled suddenly. "Very much so."
"Ah." Yoshimo said diplomatically before John could say something potentially disastrous about this revelation. "Someone once told me he didn't like being one of the Grand Dukes of Baldur's Gate."
"That's true as well," Entreri agreed. "K'yanae said that Neira had to coerce him into doing it."
"Didn't strike me like the type who could be coerced," John observed.
"Normally, no.but Neira is his mate, and by werewolf law, his equal, and he's obliged to listen to her, out of respect, if nothing else. That doesn't mean he has to obey her, but Zaknafein values her opinion greatly. They are the best of friends, something which I still cannot come to terms with." Entreri paused. "He is not.the easiest person in the world to get along with."
John noticed that 'the best of friends' did not seem as though K'yanae's parents loved each other. Frankly, he didn't care. And since Entreri did not seem inclined to pursue this topic of conversation any longer, he decided to change the subject. "Arundel, where are you taking us?"
" To a nice little place at the Bridge district," Arundel replied, "Where we'd find my contact." He hesitated. "Do any of you object towards people who are of another.sexual persuasion?"
"Depends on which sort," Y'vair said casually. "I cannot stand people who enjoy little children in that way."
"No, no, nothing of that sort," Arundel said quickly. "This friend of mind likes other young men, and I've found some people absolutely loathe the idea."
"I've had some friends of that.'persuasion'," John shrugged. "Doesn't bother me."
"Same," Y'vair conceded. "So long as what he's doing has no harm in it, it's his business, not mine."
"The.wolf thinks it is a highly unnatural idea, but I've met people of that inclination before. Usually terminally," Entreri said, with a grim smile, when Arundel looked to him. "I do not care."
Yoshimo chuckled. "Where I come from, anyone who was of this persuasion would have been tortured to death. I am more liberal."
"After this painstaking assessment, are you going to take us there now?" John asked sarcastically. "Or are you going to ask more questions? I passed my orals in school, mate, and I don't need to repeat the experience."
Arundel smiled a little nervously.
"There is.one more thing I must tell you."
"Yeah?"
"He is my.lover."
--
Little Notes and References:
Vortex: The concept for this was derived from hours of Japanese Anime, namely, Rurouni Kenshin. In the last fight with Shishio Makoto, Kenshin's backlash of Hiten Mitsuruugi (however you spell this), somehow created a vortex by the sheer strength of it, something not possible, if you take into account how scrawny Kenshin is. He did not use it to blast things into bits, but the vortex froze Shishio into place just long enough for Kenshin to hit him, and hit him good.
Homosexuality: I declare that this is the fault of the Drowfic list. The recent torrent of yaoi pairings has influenced my horribly malleable writing ideas. However, the only pairing of that sort in this entire 'fic will only be Arundel and his friend.
What's he like?
Synchronicity, for some unexplained reason, decided to work on Arundel and the golem, depositing the party in sight of a forest clearing, right in the middle of nowhere, unless one counted the group of ten drow at the other side of the clearing. There was one of those frozen moments as both sides stared at each other, then Yoshimo reacted first, bowstring thrumming as he notched and loosed an arrow in a fluid move.
To their astonishment, the arrow disappeared once it left his hands. The thief stared at the bow, then began to turn to question Y'vair - but a strangled gurgle from the drow side caused him to hesitate. The arrow had reappeared - buried in the exact centre of the priestess' throat. She clawed at it desperately, grasping hold of the thin shaft, fell back against a tree, then collapsed, still twitching.
This time, the drow reacted first, shouting out what sounded like a warcry, and raised their hands, flicking up something small and metallic.
"Behind the trees!" Entreri yanked John, the closest, behind a goodly- sized oak, as the rest took cover and none too soon - with a spiteful buzz, a tiny bolt shot past them, where John had been standing, to bury itself into another tree. John mumbled thanks to the werewolf as he held Firetooth, the hilt warm in his sweating palms - but Entreri had gone. Minutes later, a lupine growl and a feline snarl spiced with screams signaled that the dark elves had encountered the panther and the werewolf. Heavy tread through undergrowth could be heard, and John belatedly realized the golem had charged - Arundel himself unhooked his crossbow from his belt, cocked it deftly, then stepped lightly out of cover, firing. Something ricocheted off his armor with a ringing sound, and barely missed John's nose.
A tiny bolt, shaft still quivering, buried itself into the tree next to him.
This had the net effect of shocking his muscles into motion, and he looked cautiously out from behind his tree.
By the looks of it, the drow were not having a good day. Two were down, not counting the dead priestess, and the rest had been harried into the clearing, where Yoshimo and Arundel were using them as target practice. This didn't really sound like the advantage it did - the elves moved incredibly fast, and the two had to avoid hitting Entreri and the panther as well.Entreri had, for some reason, resumed his human shape, and was fighting three warriors at one go, aided by the cat. The mage looked somewhat wild around the eyes as his spells dissipated around the golem, and as John watched, the thing sprang forward, all impossible grace and speed, and smashed in the mage's skull with heavy front hooves. The remaining two were harassing Y'vair, so John aimed and threw Firetooth, the hot taste of adrenaline in his throat. He felt the odd urge to shout something suitably savage.
Bloody hell. He really needed some sort of sedative, if this mood was going to be permanent.
The dagger flared red as it spun through the air, into the head of one of the drow - then vanished and reappeared in front of John. Since he hadn't been expecting this, he didn't catch it, and it fell point-first into the ground, nearly impaling his foot. Muttering about magic items, John philosophically fished his sling from his pocket, in time to see Y'vair manipulate the warrior until his back was facing Arundel. As it turned out, full-plate armor really can't withstand a crossbow bolt.
The party of ten, by this time, had but one left - a warrior, rather good, by John's critical eye as he recovered his dagger - coolly engaging Entreri. The assassin had been cut in some places, but he seemed to ignore the wounds, teeth bared in a soundless snarl as he dodged and parried, ducked low, and slashed viciously at the warrior's kneecaps, with what looked like unnecessary force.
Abruptly there wasn't so much as a change in the sound of the area as a sudden feel in the air, like a muted sonic crackle, and a circular void appeared directly between Entreri and the warrior, who seemed to freeze into place as the blue-edged black circle roared hollowly in their ears, and yet appeared to make no sound.
Entreri recovered from his follow-through with what resembled nearly superhuman effort, as if he had to drag his weapon forward through treacle, and then the sword sliced through the void. After that, events got rather crowded.
John later remembered it (especially late at night) as a sequence, because it made his head ache less. The void had flickered and disappeared, and then an invisible wave of force had flattened out on the ground, ripping up grass and soil, picking up Entreri, the panther, and Y'vair, and flinging them away like puppets. Trees directly in front of the void immediately disappeared, as did the warrior, simply blasted into nothingness by the tightly channeled force - quite a few trees. A boulevard several metres wide was blasted open, and went on for some distance.
Bloody hell!
John, mouth dry, picked himself up from where he had been knocked down by the force of the blast, and looked shakily around. The golem was still standing, but Arundel was down and staring up at the sky, cursing colorfully. One ankle was bent in a painful and unnatural angle - possibly broken. Y'vair stood up from some bushes, wincing as she picked leaves from her hair, and a wet nose pushed into his trousers alerted him to the fact that the panther was all right. Yoshimo was staring at Entreri's sword with stunned awe, and the assassin was thoughtfully studying Vortex from where he was sitting down, knocked against a tree.
Having taken this inventory, and forcing down the urge to cheerfully inquire if everyone was all right, John rummaged in his pockets, found and lit a cigarette.
"Never knew adventuring could be such a blast. Warn us next time, mate."
"Gods." Y'vair blinked, rubbed her eyes, then blinked again. "I wonder if that's what it meant by magic resistance."
"Blowing away the mage before the poor sod can cast anything?"
"It's highly effective, sparrow," Y'vair said, poker-faced. "Sometimes, when mages realize their spells aren't working, their next move is to hit the victim repeatedly with a staff. Why do you think those poles are so bulky?" She stumbled over to Arundel and glanced at the ankle. "Damn. Can you get up?"
"Theoretically," Arundel said, squeezing his eyes shut, "Except that getting up when one is in full plate armor is always a little difficult. Can you ask me again when the world stops spinning?"
A rustling sound told John that Entreri had gotten up, and the assassin sheathed the sword reverently. His ascetic, handsome face suddenly broke into a taut grin. "By the gods, that was fun."
"Fun?" Yoshimo's voice was slightly shrill. "What if one of us had been standing somewhere in front of you?"
"But none of us had been," Entreri pointed out logically. "I'd try not to do it next time."
"Next time?"
"I think a vortex is created when the sword's swung back with some force," Entreri continued, oblivious to the sputtering thief. "Quite interesting. I wonder what would have happened if I didn't slash through it?" Yoshimo rolled his eyes, then went about retrieving his arrows carefully. As an afterthought, he picked up all the still serviceable crossbow bolts as well.
Y'vair looked up with a pained expression, as she probed Arundel's ankle. John helped her remove some of the metal gear, muttering as his fingers began to complain loudly. Why did paladins have to wear metal boots? Metal trousers, metal gloves, metal breastplate, metal greaves, backplate, helmet.it was amazing those turtles could even move. "Don't experiment too much, assassin. For all you know, it might blow us all up." She glanced down as the elf whimpered. "Stop being a baby."
"Me? A baby?" Arundel put on a scandalized expression. "Just because it feels like someone is trying to mold my ankle into some grotesque sculpture.ow! Ow! Watch where you're putting your clumsy fingers! And it's going to take me forever to will my armor back into shape."
"Imagine that. The first elf I've ever met who actually whines." Y'vair winked at John. "Mark down this day, sparrow. It's a milestone in civilization as we know it."
"I do not whine!"
**
They got to Athkatla just before the gates closed for the night, and managed to sell off most of the loot, except for those see-in-sunlight circlets that the drow had, which were currently just twisted pieces of metal stomped into the ground a ways outside the city. No one seemed to notice the golem - or if they were of enough power to see it, Arundel explained, they'd only see a normal horse. A temple had taken care of the twisted ankle - it was amazing what healing spells could do.
The Copper Coronet was in a greater state of order now - the bodies had been cleared, the knights and children had gone, and Bernard, the barkeeper, was studiously polishing the counter. Hendak was nowhere to be seen, but other than that, the building was still extremely noisy and rather crowded. Realizing their 'discount' from association with Hendak was still in effect, they managed to get beds for the night - one per person, even, after they partook of some of the greasy roast for dinner. The stairs didn't even creak when the golem trotted up them - apparently it was levitating slightly.
After shaving and taking a bath, John lay on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, listening to mice behind the paneling squeak nervously as they smelled the panther, but couldn't see it. For its part, the cat was sprawled on the carpet, purring to itself.
This world was getting very unnerving. Compulsions to say and do things that under normal circumstances he wouldn't even consider doing even if the First of the Fallen were to blackmail him into it.that odd sensation of a fight having taken place when he woke up from sleep. And too many things were trying to kill him, but in retrospect, this was practically normal.
He turned his head idly. Firetooth was under the pillow - another peculiarity. On Earth, he couldn't remember the last time he actually attempted to wield a weapon for what a weapon was actually made for, unless he counted the time that he tried to drive off lesser demons from the Hellish stock market with a sword. Fat lot of good that had done - the demons had merely turned the sword into a dollar sign. Ha, ha.
And what was he trying to do? Chasing after a magician so much more powerful than he was - no, that wasn't too strange - he'd gone against things that could, if they wanted to, obliterate him with a thought before. But just that, this time, he was doing it without a plan, and for the life of him he couldn't think of anything to do about it. Maybe it was this bloody world, trying to gear the party into one of those Famous Last Stands, so named because, after it, the party was likely to be lying down stone dead. But the magician Irenicus was probably the one who'd brought him here, and blocked up the link to the Dreaming - he didn't even have normal dreams anymore, so finding him should.
Hmph. On Earth, he would have been able to find out how to get 'back' himself, bugger Irenicus. Given enough time, he could find anything (except, of course, things about Jason Blood). But this world was magically more unstable - even if its magic seemed a lot more constrained by rules. Lord knew what would happen if he attempted to tinker with things like demon summoning.
He had to rely on himself, but if even synchronicity was working at bugger-all efficiency, what about the trickier sorts of magic? On this world, he had no favors to call in, no connections...and his books were probably at least a galaxy away.
The sense of displacement was severely daunting.
Not for the first time in his life, John had no idea whatsoever as to how to proceed.
"Bloody hell."
The door creaked open, and he immediately stuck his hand under his pillow, groping for the knife, as the panther rose to its feet with a growl. John realized belatedly why it was never a good idea to reach for sharp weapons without looking where one put his fingers. The cat settled back down with a purr of recognition, and then began to lick one of its massive paws.
He sucked on the shallow cut on his finger, grimacing slightly at the coppery taste of blood, as Y'vair entered the door and closed it behind her. The panther sniffed, seemed to blink, cocked its head to one side, then padded up towards the door, where after it patted the wood a few times, Y'vair got the hint and let it out. John raised an eyebrow as the bard sat down next to him on the bed.
He realized belatedly that she was only dressed in a plain white robe that had somehow become more...loose.
"There's a problem I believe you're qualified to help me with, sparrow," Y'vair leant forward slightly, and smiled.
"Oh?" John took his finger out of his mouth to get a better view. Blood welled up again; dull crimson on callused skin.
"It has to do with our.predicament. Hasn't it gone on long enough?" So saying, Y'vair gently but firmly took his wrist, and licked the blood away slowly, swirling her pink tongue around it in a way that made his breathing quicken.
"If you put it that way, luv."
**
As the sun rose into later in the morning the party wandered around buying supplies, then Arundel took them to the mage's house. "We'd speak to K'yanae's father, then I have a friend we'd probably have to meet, if we want to get to Brynnlaw."
John shrugged. Last night had been very interesting, and this morning the panther's expression had been one of almost-amusement and almost-curiosity, oddly enough, as though it had vaguely expected this to happen, but when it did, it was still mildly bewildered. Yoshimo said that the cat had chosen to go sleep on the carpet in his room and shot John a look of curiosity, but however the cat had sensed that Y'vair was going to do something, John had absolutely no idea.
"You have it!" the mage exclaimed eagerly when all of them were crowded into his living room, fingers trembling as they took the Dark Sighing from Entreri and put it on. "At last."
"Your promise, friend," Entreri said, stressing on the last word, somehow emphasizing that, if Entreri really wanted to, the status of 'friend' could change to 'dead foe'. The assassin was positively vibrating with suppressed energy today. Any moment now, John half-expected him to start bouncing off the walls.
"Of course, of course.this way please. And Arundel, it's wonderful to see you again."
"And you," Arundel grinned. "Though we have to work on your idea of passwords."
The mage grinned sheepishly as he led them upstairs - though the golem stayed in the living room, unmoving as a statue. The furnishing of the rest of the house was almost Spartan, and the room they were led into was totally bare except for a large full-length mirror fixed to a wall, the frame plain metal, totally unadorned. On a first glance, John wouldn't even have given it a thought.
Arundel's mage friend touched the Dark Sighing as if for reassurance, then began to chant in a sonorous voice, fingers weaving abstract designs into the air while Entreri walked in a tight circle. "I wonder if the mirror can scry K'yanae."
"If she's in Spellhold, I'd advise against it," Arundel said, "Gods know what sort of wards they have against scrying, there."
"The Citadel has wards as well," Entreri pointed out.
"Ah, but our mage friend is doing something like 'knocking'. The Spellhold may not even recognize it.and I doubt you want to be in the midst of an expanding fireball."
"Quiet, you two," Y'vair said, pointing. Their reflection in the mirror wavered, and then coalesced to show a room that was more richly furnished than this one. John hadn't seen that many wands in one place before. There were two mages in the room, one female, and one male, who stared at them warily, looking at each of their faces before settling on Entreri. Arundel's friend seemed relieved. Apparently the Dark Sighing had worked after all - there wasn't any sort of magical retribution from the Cowled Wizards.
The assassin inclined his head to them. "May we speak to your master Duke Do'Urden? It concerns the location of the Lady K'yanae."
The mages held a whispered conversation, and then the female left the room. Once the door closed, the remaining mage spoke tentatively. "Where is she? The collar broke contact some time ago, and we haven't been able to locate her since.remote sensing told us she wasn't anywhere near you. The family's very worried.and Namaen's gone as well."
Something clicked in John's head - this mage spoke as though K'yanae was a relative, and though human, he had amber eyes.werewolf? Did this explain Entreri's sudden formality?
"It is precisely because of that which I have to speak with the Duke." Entreri said stiffly. John got the idea that he didn't particularly like the 'family'.but why that was so, John really didn't bother. They were saved from this awkward moment when the door practically flew open to reveal a dark elf dressed in chain mail armor, cloak negligently buckled on at one shoulder, the clasp and surcoat sporting a design of a black talon, the same symbol, John noted, emblazoned on the robes of the mages. He was armed, and superbly muscled, moving with the grace and confidence of a trained warrior.
Behind him was a woman with gorgeous auburn hair, but other than that, unremarkable features, dressed in a plain but well made blue dress that hugged the hips but flowed down to the ankles. Both the dark elf and the women had amber eyes - John surmised that these two were Zaknafein and Neira, K'yanae's parents.
"Where is she?" Zaknafein began by demanding. "And who are these people?"
After the situation had been explained, Zaknafein's face seemed to shut down into some sort of icy fury that seemed more dangerous than Entreri could ever be, rather like a tightly coiled spring about to unwind all at once, if it had the chance. The party had mentioned the fact that Namaen was dead - something that caused several amber-eyed soldiers at the doorway to hiss in anger. Looking around tentatively, John realized that all his companions were staring at the dark elf with a sense of awe, as they would in the presence of a living legend. After having had Zaknafein's exploits explained to him beforehand, John could understand why.
"I see," he said, each word a growl. "Brynnlaw." He turned on the curious soldiers lining the doorway outside. "You! Find Vorkai and send the fox here. He should still be in the Citadel - his ship sails only tomorrow." As the soldier saluted and left, Zaknafein seemed to study their faces, his piercing eyes unreadable. They stopped on the panther, and he blinked.
"Guenhwyvar?"
The panther yawned at him, then rubbed against John's legs. Zaknafein frowned, then seemed to shrug the fact off as unimportant. Perhaps the panther had an alternate personality here?
"What will we do?" Neira asked quietly.
Zaknafein chewed his lip absently. "Send in a chosen force and take her out sounds attractive, though sneaking Talons past Athkatla borders would be chancy."
"If they don't wear the uniforms." Entreri ventured.
"Oh. Congratulations," Zaknafein made a gesture at his throat, where a collar similar to Entreri's was worn.
Entreri smiled slightly, a thin, cold smile. "Perhaps."
"You'd control it in time," Neira said encouragingly. At this point of time, a tall, stooped man with cynical blue eyes entered the room, and bowed respectfully. "Your Grace?"
"No time for that," Zaknafein said, a little hastily. "What do you know of Brynnlaw?"
"The pirate island?"
"So you know how to get there?"
"No." The man, probably Vorkai, raised a hand when Zaknafein opened his mouth. "I know of it - island in the middle of an area that generates tropical storms and has hidden reefs. Charming place, if you ignore those, the occasional githyanki that are supposed to be in the area, and the other pirates. I can't remember the leader's name at the moment - pirate politics are vicious and chaotic - but he'd be in league with the Cowled Wizards that run the Spellhold deep in the island. It's supposedly an impenetrable fortress - all the ways in are hopelessly warded, and it's a maximum security prison with no parole."
Zaknafein grimaced. "So sieging the place is not a good idea?"
"Definitely not, unless you wish to lose a large number of Talons," Vorkai looked curious as to why he was being asked about this. "And the Wizards are allied with Athkatla authority, so politically."
"Hmph. I can't sit an army at the border and demand they give up one of their prisoners?"
"They won't do it," Vorkai said, "There are a lot of Cowled wizards, and they're a very rich arcane order - they could buy the mercenaries needed to match our numbers, if they needed to. That's why they can afford to be based in Athkatla. Besides, they want to keep the image of Spellhold as a no-way-out place, to intimidate all the mages they extract blood money from. I've been to Athkatla several times before - and I hate that place."
Zaknafein sighed. "Can 'adventurers' land on the island, then?"
"Possibly, but too large a group would arouse comment - and the Wizards are very good at getting information." Vorkai grimaced. "Trust me on this. It'd be better to place people there who have no connection to the Talons at all, if you're planning on sneaking Lady K'yanae out of Spellhold."
There was a strained pause.
"Very quick," Zaknafein said grudgingly. Vorkai smiled slightly.
"A stupid pirate is a dead pirate, your Grace."
"Do you know anything else about Spellhold? Like where the prisoners are kept, how." Entreri spoke up.
"No," Vorkai said immediately. "Spellhold's location itself is a rather closely-guarded secret - only pirates, Cowled wizards, and a few others know of it. I have no idea where Brynnlaw itself is on a map - just a general idea of where it should be in the Pirate Isles."
"I can get us there," Arundel spoke up. "I know someone who might be able to put a certain captain in our way."
"And that captain is?" Vorkai asked professionally.
"Saemon Havarian. Perhaps you've heard of it."
Vorkai blinked. "Are you sure you want to use him?"
"What about it?" Zaknafein asked suspiciously.
"He's a famous.infamous, I should think." Vorkai made a face. "He's adventurous, daring, mischievous, and a total scoundrel."
"This? From you?" Neira grinned.
"He'd be easy to bribe - but if he gets a better offer, he'd sell you to anyone. If you can find him."
"We should be," Arundel nodded.
"Right," Zaknafein said decisively. "Entreri, you take your party with you and reach Brynnlaw. We'd give you something for you to use to contact us once you're there." he stared pointedly at the mages until one of them bowed, grinned and left. "And then you wait there while we come for you, and scout around. Do not try to enter the fortress itself until we get a location point on you - getting killed would not be helpful, or any heroic stunts, understand?"
Entreri bowed without comment, accepting the command even if John doubted that the assassin was actually under Zaknafein's jurisdiction.
"After that, I damn well don't believe Black Talon's finest can't do anything about extracting my daughter.or that enough of Talon mages can't destroy this Irenicus.I'd lead them myself. We'd continue searching up information on this Spellhold here and on this Irenicus until you give us the signal. Good luck. Do you need money?" Zaknafein's manner was brusque, curt with anticipation.
Entreri looked to Arundel.
The elf shook his head. "You can always pay us back," he said mischievously. "If we have to bribe people."
Zaknafein nodded impatiently. "Anything else, then?"
John decided, in the face of matters, not to raise the question whether he really wanted to go and invade a fortress full of mages on an island full of pirates. Y'vair shot him a faint smile, and Yoshimo, a slight shrug. There wasn't anything else they could do, at the moment, except allow themselves to be swept along.
Entreri exchanged a few more vague courtesies with Neira - and one of the mages returned with a small box.
"Magical flare," Zaknafein explained. "I have no idea how it works, so long as it does." He raised an eyebrow at the mages, who grinned at him, then began murmuring in unison.
"Hold out your hand," one of them instructed Entreri, who complied. The box - a cube that could be easily concealed in a palm - disappeared abruptly and after a few seconds, reappeared on Entreri's hand.
"When you want to use it, there's a ruby on the lid and two sapphires on either side. You have to press down all three at once," one of the mages instructed. "And don't put it in the collar. The dimensional flux there seems to ruin the box."
"Is it fragile?" Entreri turned the box over, examining it curiously.
"Not really.just don't put in the way of a strong magical blast. Oh, and don't soak it in water. One of the components melt in water."
Entreri nodded, and put it away.
"Go, then," Zaknafein waved a hand in dismissal, and the reflection blurred back to that which one sees in a conventional mirror.
**
"What's he like?" Y'vair asked Entreri when the party walked out of the building. "Zaknafein, I mean."
"Him?" Entreri rubbed his clean-shaven chin. "Very, very intelligent, a master strategist, intuitive, cunning, calculated - under him the Talons expanded from a small group of about a hundred or so to the power it is today. And of course, he is the finest warrior I've ever met."
"Fought him before?" John inquired, not really out of curiosity.or maybe it was. There was something very compelling about the dark elf.
"Yes," Entreri made a face. "Sometimes my hip still aches in cold weather. He moves like a snake, and if you add that to the werewolf strength, his sword Khazid'hea and the centuries of experience."
"I've heard he follows no god," Arundel said, his demeanor casual, almost artificially so.
"That is true. He does follow a higher authority though.higher than the Gods, I believe," Entreri remarked. "K'yanae called them Asur, and Zaknafein is their representative here."
"Higher than the Gods? How is that possible?" Arundel's eyes widened.
"I have no idea," Entreri admitted. "I didn't really understand K'yanae when she was explaining it to me. We were a little.distracted at that time." He smiled suddenly. "Very much so."
"Ah." Yoshimo said diplomatically before John could say something potentially disastrous about this revelation. "Someone once told me he didn't like being one of the Grand Dukes of Baldur's Gate."
"That's true as well," Entreri agreed. "K'yanae said that Neira had to coerce him into doing it."
"Didn't strike me like the type who could be coerced," John observed.
"Normally, no.but Neira is his mate, and by werewolf law, his equal, and he's obliged to listen to her, out of respect, if nothing else. That doesn't mean he has to obey her, but Zaknafein values her opinion greatly. They are the best of friends, something which I still cannot come to terms with." Entreri paused. "He is not.the easiest person in the world to get along with."
John noticed that 'the best of friends' did not seem as though K'yanae's parents loved each other. Frankly, he didn't care. And since Entreri did not seem inclined to pursue this topic of conversation any longer, he decided to change the subject. "Arundel, where are you taking us?"
" To a nice little place at the Bridge district," Arundel replied, "Where we'd find my contact." He hesitated. "Do any of you object towards people who are of another.sexual persuasion?"
"Depends on which sort," Y'vair said casually. "I cannot stand people who enjoy little children in that way."
"No, no, nothing of that sort," Arundel said quickly. "This friend of mind likes other young men, and I've found some people absolutely loathe the idea."
"I've had some friends of that.'persuasion'," John shrugged. "Doesn't bother me."
"Same," Y'vair conceded. "So long as what he's doing has no harm in it, it's his business, not mine."
"The.wolf thinks it is a highly unnatural idea, but I've met people of that inclination before. Usually terminally," Entreri said, with a grim smile, when Arundel looked to him. "I do not care."
Yoshimo chuckled. "Where I come from, anyone who was of this persuasion would have been tortured to death. I am more liberal."
"After this painstaking assessment, are you going to take us there now?" John asked sarcastically. "Or are you going to ask more questions? I passed my orals in school, mate, and I don't need to repeat the experience."
Arundel smiled a little nervously.
"There is.one more thing I must tell you."
"Yeah?"
"He is my.lover."
--
Little Notes and References:
Vortex: The concept for this was derived from hours of Japanese Anime, namely, Rurouni Kenshin. In the last fight with Shishio Makoto, Kenshin's backlash of Hiten Mitsuruugi (however you spell this), somehow created a vortex by the sheer strength of it, something not possible, if you take into account how scrawny Kenshin is. He did not use it to blast things into bits, but the vortex froze Shishio into place just long enough for Kenshin to hit him, and hit him good.
Homosexuality: I declare that this is the fault of the Drowfic list. The recent torrent of yaoi pairings has influenced my horribly malleable writing ideas. However, the only pairing of that sort in this entire 'fic will only be Arundel and his friend.
