CHAPTER 2
It was cold outside. The wind had picked up as the morning wore on, and being near the sea didn't help either. Never-the-less, the Docks bustled with people; shops down near the water were all open, sailors and cargo men carried crates and barrels back and forth, and between it all Amnish guards patrolled the grounds like big mobile tin cans. Xzar's eyes flicked back to these soldiers spasmodically as he and Montaron made their way down to the shops near the shore. The life of a Zhent was one of constant paranoia.
"Were those men there last night?" He asked his companion, pulling his cloak around his shoulders after fighting the wind for it. Montaron shrugged.
"Who cares. Let's just do what we have to do and if one of them gives us trouble, we just slit his throat. Lickety split." The halfling replied quaintly, eyes focused on an armory shop a few feet below them. The wind made it difficult to descend the city's sloping staircase, and he found he had to fight to keep his balance. When a suddenly strong gust of wind hit him head-on, he teetered back and nearly fell over. Xzar's hand grasped his shoulder painfully and held him up.
"Well now that was amusing!" The tall wizard piped and chuckled, "I wonder if you'll fly off like a kite if the wind picks up enough..." He mused. Montaron grunted and hurried forward, pounding down the steps as fast as he could until he reached level ground and stopped.
"Shut yer mouth lest ye want me to break yer legs." He called up at Xzar as the other man calmly made his way down the steps and to the ground. He had agreed to go to the bazaar and find the wizard a decent quarterstaff -- something he'd never before owned or even held in his hands -- that could be then magically modified into whatever weapon suited his fancy. For all the time they'd been working together, the only weapon Montaron had ever seen Xzar use other than his magic was a dagger; a long, wicked-edged thing that the addled man wielded like a broadsword when things got rough. Today, however, the wizard looked not in the least dangerous -- he looked like a kid in a candy store.
"Couldn't we just take apart a table from the Inn and use one of the legs?" Montaron commented, beginning to wish he hadn't agreed to the small bit of shopping. There was a small cry of delight from his side, and then Xzar hurried off towards the nearest shop; it was the armory. Montaron frowned tempestuously, "So the fool's attracted to shiny things too..." He grunted and went off after his partner. While Xzar examined the shopkeep's goods, the halfling signalled for the vendor's attention.
"Excuse me, sir, but perhaps ye could give me a bit of information." He asked the merchant, who was at least three times his size and wearing some hide armor that made him resemble an ogre. The immense man cracked a wide smile.
"Sure thing, little man!" He replied good-naturedly, "What do you need?" Montaron looked up at the man and squinted his eyes from the bright sunlight that somehow seemed to pierce the thick bed of cloud hanging above.
"My friend..." He cast a quick glance over at Xzar, who was now talking to himself and fondling a pair of dark wood staves, "...and I are looking for a man by the name of Ployer; we have some items to deliver to him, and we were referred here." He asked. The shopkeep's grin widened at this and he leaned heavily on a display of scimitars.
"As if you're actually trying to find Baron Ployer!" He exclaimed and threw his thumb over his shoulder, "His house is just over there, right of the tavern; just go up a bit. You can't miss it, it's got the only damn garden around smack dab in the middle of the front yard." He shook his head, "That Ployer's got more money than everyone in this place put together...including the tavern! I tell you...good man he is, though. His daughter goes to school with my little girl!" He frowned thoughtfully, "Funny though, I ain't never seen his wife." He shrugged and motioned behind him again, "He lives up by the tavern." He resumed matter-of- factly, then peered down at Monatron, "You ain't from around here, are you?" Montaron opened his mouth to answer, suddenly snapping out of the bored daze he'd been in since the shopkeep began babbling Ployer's life story, but Xzar came up beside him and smiled.
"No, we're from the Umar Hills." He replied glibly, getting an incredulous stare from Montaron; he held up an ebon staff, "I'll take this." He payed the nodding merchant and headed back towards the city stairs.
"Tell the Baron that Marcus says hello!" The shopkeep called after the pair as they moved away. Montaron held up his hand to signal that he had heard, then looked up at Xzar.
"Umar Hills, wizard?" He grunted, then made a face, "What in the nine Hells are the Umar Hills? If you made that up..." He started and Xzar sighed.
"It exists! Did you not see the man nod when I said it?" The wizard said, "By the Gods, Monty. Have some faith." Montaron laughed a cold, fake laugh.
"I'll have to be in some bloody apocalyptic predicament before I start putting my faith in a fruitcake like you!" He growled, "So what and where are these Umar Hills of yours?" He came to a halt at the top of the stairs and Xzar blinked.
"I went there this summer to get some mimic blood." The wizard replied, "It's outside the city gates...oh, I'd guess about a day's ride from here. There's a small village at the foot of the hills -- it's much too close to the woods for my liking." He wrinkled his nose, "But it's in those very woods that I fought the mimic!" He dashed out in front of Montaron and made a box shape with his hands, "You know, Monty, mimics take the shape of chests or boxes and they attack when folks make to open or unlock them!" He began excitedly, "So you can imagine how utterly ridiculous this 'chest' looked sitting in the bush...I mean, you'd think the stupid creature would at least try to find a cave or something that would even remotely give folks the idea that this 'chest' was actually some hidden treasure, but not this time..." He bent and pretended to try to unlock an imaginary chest, "...I tried to unlock the thing, of course...because you never know, I could have been wasting my time...and sure as all Hell it polymorphed and leaped for my throat!" He jumped up and clutched his throat. Montaron looked idly around to see if anyone was watching.
"The beast was strong and I'm positive it cut me and I panicked and wrestled it off of me and threw it to the ground!" The wizard went on, continuing his little play, "I threw my dagger at it and pinned it to the ground by its foreleg and while it screeched at me I laughed and cast magic missile on it's pitiful trapped self. At last I bested the monster." He snapped up his new quarterstaff and held it out before him defensively, then sneered and narrowed his eyes, "Oh yes, Monty..." He hissed, staring forward determinedly, "...I am the master of combat." He made a few cutting motions with the staff then snapped it back into a defensive position. Montaron looked over his shoulder again and then back at Xzar. The wizard looked like the bastardized statue of a paladin of Lathander, with his hair whipping in the wind along with his cloak and robes...and that absolutely ridiculous wistful expression on his face. Montaron cleared his throat.
"That's nice." He said plainly, "But aren't mimics tiny little creatures? Ye could step on them and put 'em out of their misery." Xzar's shoulders slumped and he lowered his staff.
"Well if you put it that way..." He snipped petulantly and whirled around, "So Ployer lives right up here, hmmm?" He changed the subject, striding off towards the Sea's Bounty. Montaron hurried along.
"Aye. And he's a Baron too..." Montaron smirked, "...maybe we should take a look around the house before we see him!" He chuckled. They made their way past the tavern and pinpointed a relatively large house with a colorful, healthy flower garden-formation in the front yard. Someone could be seen crouching beside a bunch of tall, fountain-like leaves. As they walked along the edge of the road facing the house, the person busying away beside the leaves popped up and looked in their direction. It was a young girl of about eight or nine.
"Your odour startled her." Xzar whispered to Montaron and snickered nastily as the two of them left the roadway and started along the neat stepping-stone pathway that lead to the front door of Ployer's house. It took all of the willpower Montaron possessed not to lash out and hit his partner; instead, he warily eyed the young girl, who was coming their way. She halted before them and examined them curiously.
"Are you here to see my father?" She asked, speaking to Montaron first (seeing as she was nearly eye-level with him). A few feet above, Xzar clapped a hand to his mouth and bit his lower lip, watching the scene with great amusement. Montaron gave a curt nod.
"If yer father's name be Ployer, then yes we are." He replied, "Is he in this morning?" He was making a tremendous effort not to tell the child to move so he could pass by. The girl nodded, her eyes eating Monty up.
"Yes he is!" She piped, smiling now, "I'll take you to him!" With that, she snatched up Montaron's hand and pulled him towards the house. Xzar cackled and followed after them. As they reached the door, the girl stopped and grinned over at Montaron.
"You're a halfling, aren't you?" She asked excitedly. Montaron rolled his eyes and prayed to all the gods for the brat to be quiet; he had the ill feeling that Xzar would never let him live this little episode down, and the more the girl talked, the worse his situation got.
"Yer a bright one." He snapped with venomous sarcasm, but to his dismay, the sarcasm didn't sink in with the girl the way it did with Xzar. The girl clasped her hands and laughed.
"Oh I knew you were!" She squealed, "I've never seen a halfling before, but my dad said there were some in the neighbourhood." She reached for the doorknob at last, "My name's Atma, what's yours?" She asked brightly, pulling open the door. Montaron pushed past the child and hurried inside.
"Montaron. Now go get yer father, quick. I haven't got all day." He grumbled impatiently as Xzar stepped inside and shut the door at their back. The girl, Atma, furrowed her brow at Montaron's tone, then nodded and hurried off into the house. When she was gone, Montaron held up his hand.
"Don't even try, wizard." He warned, "This is not a good time." There was a chuckle from behind him followed by a rather accurate imitation of Atma asking him what his name was. Before violence broke out, the girl returned with a man.
"See, look! I told you! It's a halfling!" She declared triumphantly, "And his name is Montaron. I don't know what the other man's name is though." She frowned. The man at her side, her father, nodded quickly.
"Yes yes, alright." He agreed with a sigh, "Now go busy yourself elsewhere, Atma. Daddy has business with these men." He waved his daughter off and she traipsied back towards the door. As she crossed Montaron, she smiled.
"See you later, Montaron!" She cooed and hurried out the door. Montaron peered over at Xzar; the wizard mouthed the girl's words, batted his eyelashes and flicked his hair. The halfling gritted his teeth. Across the room, Ployer cleared his throat.
"I assume Edwin sent you." He frowned at the pair, "If you two are quite done making fun of my daughter, then perhaps we can get down to business." He raised an eyebrow and motioned for the two to follow him. He lead them a short ways through the house and into a small study of sorts; once they were inside, he promptly shut the door and signalled for everyone to have a seat. Xzar and Ployer sat in overstuffed chairs and Montaron remained standing.
"Mayhap we could get this over with quickly, Ployer." The halfling said grumpily, still sour about the earlier greeting, "My blade be thirsting for blood. Now who need ye dead?" At this Ployer made a face.
"Not dead exactly." The Baron replied then leaned forward, "I just need this person delivered to me. Her name is Jaheira; she's a druid and a Harper." He explained. Xzar jumped in his seat.
"A Harper?!" He cried in alarm; this mission was just getting more and more impossible by the day. Ployer frowned and gestured for him to be quiet.
"I know what you're thinking, but your organization owes me big and I need this job done post haste!" Ployer growled, "There's a gaudy, orange establishment by the bazaar that serves as a secret hideout for a group of Harpers. No one is supposed to know what that building really houses, but I do...and now so do you. The druid Jaheira is somewhere inside the Harper Hold, hiding from me, and I want her brought to me." He frowned, "They know I am aware of their base in the Docks and they're getting ready to pack their bags and leave because of it...well, that and the fact that there is a Cowled Wizard in the area that has threatened to report their presence here to the Government. They are also aware of what I am after and they're keeping their eyes and ears open in case I make an attempt at taking it. I have little time to make my move; any day now the Harpers could leave town and then it would be months before I could find them again." Xzar idly rolled the staff laying on his lap.
"That's all good and well, my friend, but how do you propose we gain admission into the pansy-brigade's nest?" The wizard asked, giving Ployer an even stare. Ployer leaned back in his chair and shrugged.
"I don't know and I don't care." He replied pointedly, "Just do it fast." Montaron, who's eyes spasmodically flicked around the room's expensive furnishings from time to time, found Ployer's gaze.
"So if we help ye, what's in it for us? This ain't free, you know; we aren't a church group." He demanded shortly. Ployer blinked.
"Did Edwin not tell you that I would help you as a reward?" He asked primly, "Do what I ask of you and I will grant you an audience with a man that will become your greatest ally while you are on this rescue mission of yours." He smiled. Xzar nodded.
"What does this Jaheira woman look like?" The wizard asked curiously, imagining he and his partner busting into the Harper Hold, grabbing the first woman they see, and running out of there like mad. Ployer's answer was quick.
"She's a half-elf. Long hair...the color of yours." He pointed to Xzar's toffee-colored locks, "Grey eyes, average height. She's got an accent. Pretty girl." He smirked then got up, "I bid you good luck." He added. Xzar rose from his seat and Montaron started for the door. Ployer saw them out and back through the house, then paused by the front door.
"I will be waiting." The Baron said with a firm stare before letting the pair leave. When they were outside, Xzar shook his head.
"Well really, a Harper!" He exclaimed with great irritation, then set off down the stepping-stone pathway in a huff, "None are so annoying as those insufferable Harpers!" He mumbled darkly. Montaron went after him, then halted abruptly when Atma jumped into his path. The girl was grinning.
"Hi Montaron!" She piped. Montaron swerved around her.
"Goodbye, Atma." He grumbled and quickened his pace, praying the girl wouldn't follow. To his delight, she didn't; instead, she called out to him when he had reached the roadway ahead.
"It was nice meeting you!" She called, waving enthusiastically, "Come by and visit again!" Montaron ignored her and caught up with Xzar a few steps ahead, his face a mask of utter distaste and annoyance. Xzar turned a grin down at him.
"I think she likes you." He commented in a strangled voice, biting his lip and trying his best not to burst into hysterics. He started to go into another imitation of Atma then cried out when he was quite abruptly shoved to the ground. He looked up to find Monatron crouched over him, teeth clenched and fist reared back to strike. He swallowed hard.
"Oh wait a minute now, Monty!" He pleaded, raising his hands in defense. He yelped as Montaron's fist shot down...and landed inches from his face. The wizard let out a heavy breath and Montaron sneered at him then rapidly got to his feet. Xzar blinked, still somewhat stunned, then pulled himself to his feet with the help of his staff. He glared at Montaron and the other man pointed at him accusatingly.
"Yer wit be as sharp as my blade, wizard." The halfling snapped, "Keep flappin' that smart mouth o' yers and I'll cut ye a new one while yer sleeping." He threatened with quick slashing motion across his throat. Without another word, he turned on his heels and stormed off back in the direction of the tavern. Xzar gritted his teeth and heaved his staff at Montaron's retreating back.
"You are a royal pain, Monty!" He cried shrilly, "And don't threaten me!" Ahead, the staff clattered to the ground a few feet short of Montaron. The halfling cackled and didn't even turn around to speak.
"Ye missed, ye daft wizard!" The thief cried. Xzar literally shook with anger, his fists curled up at his sides; he let out a frustrated yell, startling a man who walked past him, and ran for his staff. He snatched it up off the ground as he zipped by and continued on until he caught up with his partner. Falling into stride alongside the halfling, he jabbed the but of his staff into the other man's ribs.
"Relax!" He hissed, "There's no use walking so fast when there's nowhere to go!" Montaron gripped his side and frowned up at Xzar.
"Well ye may not have cleaned out yer ears during yer bath last night, but I distinctly heard Ployer say that we have to visit the Harper Hold." He replied sharply then made a mocking, dainty gesture with his hand, "And that, my thick friend, is where I'm going." Xzar raised and eyebrow.
"I fail to grasp the sense in that, Monty." He droned as they neared the top of the left-hand city staircase, "What would you have us do when we get there, hmm? Knock on the door and ask to speak to Jaheira?" Montaron paused.
"Yes. That's exactly what I want us to do." He answered seriously, to Xzar's horror, "Just shut up and let me do that talking for once." He started down the stairs. Xzar, a look of terrible apprehension on his face, followed closely behind.
"The humour in that escapes me, Monty." He wheezed uncomfortably. Montaron snorted.
"It wasn't a joke, wizard." He shot back. Xzar's silence was worth a thousand words.
When they reached the garish orange building that Ployer had described earlier on, they resisted the urge to look around paranoidly to see if anyone was watching or following them. They stood before the door for a bit, Montaron gathering his thoughts and Xzar looking tremendously uncomfortable. Montaron looked over at his partner and gave him a dark glare.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, wizard." He growled over at him, unimpressed by his shifty demeanor, "Can ye at least try to look like ye know what we're doing?" He shrugged, "Smile or something." Xzar smiled a wide, fake smile -- he was frightening at best, "Nevermind." Montaron said slowly and turned to face the door. He raised his hand and knocked; behind him, Xzar sighed. A few moments later, a man opened the door.
"Yes?" He asked curiously; he was dressed in peasant clothes. His eyes flicked from Xzar to Montaron; queerly, the eagle-eyed way with which he examined the two betrayed the ordinary garb he wore. This man was most obviously no simple peasant. Montaron forced a small smile.
"Good day to ye." He replied with a slight incline of his head, "This is the Harper Hold, I presume?" He asked uncertainly. He could almost feel Xzar's horror. The peasant's eyes widened and his jaw dropped.
"W-what?" He snapped in a hushed whisper, "Of course not!" He frowned deeply. Montaron put on a confused expression.
"Then why are ye whispering?" He retorted cleverly, whispering as well. The peasant looked over his shoulder quickly and glowered at the two men before him.
"How do you know what this place is, and what do you want?" He demanded. Montaron blinked.
"My friend and I have been researching yer group for a good while now." He said lightly, "We're interested in joining yer ranks. Is that even possible?" He asked innocently. The peasant exhaled loudly.
"Not as such, no. It's...it's really not a good time right now." He replied hastily. The way he danced from foot to foot indicated his desire to end the conversation as quickly as humanly possible. Unfortunately for him, Montaron would not let that happen just yet.
"Really? Well that's too bad." The halfling said, downcast, "Mayhap we could just look around a bit? We came all the way from the Umar Hills, man...that's quite a ways to go to just be turned down like this." He added with a frown. His ploy worked, for the goody-goody Harper-peasant looked conflicted now.
"Like I said...I'm very sorry, sirs, but this is really not a good time." The man at the door said apologetically. When Montaron took a bit too long to respond, Xzar chimed in.
"May I ask why this is not a good time?" The wizard inquired curiously, "Would it perchance be because of a certain Cowled Wizard that knows you are here?" The peasant raised an eyebrow, then eyed him thoughtfully and took a breath.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." He managed and started to close the door, but Montaron's hand shot out and held it open.
"We could silence the man for ye if ye wish." The halfling offered with a smile that was less than benevolent. The moment the man at the door halted, Xzar backed up the offer.
"As a sign of good faith, of course. Something for your group to remember us by." The lithe wizard added, leaning to the side to catch a better glimpse of the pessant; he smiled, "What say you? We silence this wizard for you and you let us have a little peek inside, hmm?" The man at the door considered this for a long moment before answering.
"Be back here before sundown or our deal is off. The wizard's name is Rayic Gethras and he lives right next door. If his gate is open, then he is home...and today his gate is open." He declared. Xzar nodded.
"A fair trade." He agreed and offered a devious smile. The peasant shut the door with a barely audible click. With that, Xzar turned to face Montaron.
"I spoke. I couldn't help myself." He said apologetically and gave the halfling a sheepish smile, "You were about to screw up, anyway." He added. Montaron frowned.
"No I wasn't." He quipped at once, "I was trying to look disappointed ye dolt!" He scolded the taller man. Xzar blinked and flushed.
"Oh." He peeped. Montaron shrugged and strode past him.
"Dah well, wizard. Ye read my mind anyway." He admitted off- handedly. Xzar smiled and followed after him.
"Oh goody good good!" He piped cheerily, then turning to Montaron, "So...do we wait for nightfall to go wizard hunting?" He asked in the same tone he'd use to ask if it was alright if he had a bit to eat before dinner. Montaron snorted.
"No. I'm in the mood for blood now." He answered decidedly, "I'll be in the mood for sleep tonight." He strode determinedly up to the gates of Gethras' house, Xzar close behind. This wasn't going to be very complicated. The halfling walked to the door and knocked, his free hand grasping the dagger beneath his vest. There was a pause, and then a sallow- skinned man opened the door.
"What is it?" He asked suspiciously, holding the door. Xzar smiled.
"Your name isn't Rayic Gethras, is it?" The wizard asked brightly. The sallow thing frowned.
"Yes, wha--" The man began but cried out as Montaron's dagger buried itself in his shoulder. Montaron swore at the miss and then his surprised cry mingled with Xzar's as Gethras' contingency spell went off, a bright flash of light exploding out of nowehere and rendering both of them blind for a short period of time. When they regained sight, Gethras was gone...and Montaron was ripping mad.
"Upstairs!" The halfling roared and bolted towards the staircase at the other end of the room. Xzar slammed the front door shut and ran after his partner. Once on the second floor, they were faced with not one, but two foes: Gethras, who was chanting frantically at the back of room, and an orc-size clay golem. The golem charged Montaron, who was the first up the stairs; with a gleeful shout, the halfling met the creature head-on and fell upon it like a rabid wolf.
Second up the stairs, Xzar's gaze went from the golem to the wizard at the back of the room. He grinned wickedly, "You my friend, are so dead." He purred and launched into an incantation. Gethras was ready well before Xzar, though, and threw out his hands, fingers splayed; a volley of magic missiles rocketed unerringly towards Xzar, but the wizard didn't flinch. The missiles halted about an inch in front of Xzar, then turned back in Gethras' direction...only to be dispelled. Noticing this, Xzar paused in his current incantation and began to chant another; Gethras was Sanctuaried, which meant that no offensive spells could be targeted at him until his protection was removed. He had just about completed the chant when he was thrown to the side by a huge clay arm. Montaron's voice sounded from where he had been standing.
"I told ye to move, wizard!" The halfling cried angrily and danced away from the golem's swerving fist; he spun around to the back of the creature and his sword bit into its chalky hip. A large chunk of clay dropped to the ground with a dull thud. The golem roared and turned around, swinging down with its massive fist and nearly connecting with Montaron's head as the halfling dipped down and propelled himself between its legs, coming up in front of it again. Another chunk of clay hit the ground as Montaron's sword hacked in. It was, he remarked, uncannily like chopping wood.
There was a shout of triumph from Xzar off to the side, and then Montaron was quite suddenly unable to move. He watched in horror, though, as the golem in front of him raised both fists to strike. Just as he resigned himself to death and admitted that he perhaps should have waited until dark to attack Gethras, a group of four flaming arrows veered around the golem's sides and hit fiercely in succession; the creature exploded into chalky bits as the last arrow hit home. When the mess cleared, Montaron's eyes fell upon Xzar; the wizard was staring, wide-eyed, at the pile of dust a few feet in front him. The mage looked at Montaron, frowned, then looked to Gethras in alarm as the man's voice rose up again from the back of the room. His eyes darted from Gethras to Montaron and back again, his chest heaving; he didn't wether to unparalyze his partner or attack Gethras. Montaron wished he could scream.
As if Xzar had read his partern's thoughts, he barked a few words in an ill-known language and shot his arm out, poiting a finger at Gethras. From his position, Montaron had to look out of the corner of his eye to see what was going on; he saw Gethras' hands fly up, but instead of casting a spell, he covered his face with them and let out a blood-curdling scream. Blisters, burns and large, infectious pustules sprouted all over the man's flesh, forming on the skin like foam on boiling water. Montaron chuckled internally; Xzar was not only a wizard, but a necromancer...and the contagion spell was one of his favorites.
The nasty little trick bought Xzar the time he needed to dispel Montaron's paralyzation. Free to move now, Montaron tore after Gethras, sword first. His blade, though, primly bounced off the diseased wizard as if the man had flesh like that of a mustard jelly.
"Do something about that, ye blasted fool!" He yelled at Xzar as Gethras attempted to ignore his festering wounds and began to chant again. Xzar's voice rose over Gethras', but the Cowled Wizard's song was a shorter one; a bolt of crackling, bright blue lightning shot out from Gethras' position and hammered into Montaron, searing his armor and sending him reeling. Xzar's spell went off and Gethras swore, ripping a scroll from the folds of his robes and franctically trying to unroll it with trembling, ravaged hands. Seeing this is as more than a satisfactory opening for some hands-on finishing work, Xzar produced a kris-dagger from his sleeve and charged Gethras.
"I have become death, destroyer of worlds!" The green-robed necromancer cried at the top of his lungs, his dagger raised high. As he came within inches of Gethras, the elder wizard dropped his scroll and muttered a few words then disappeared...only to reappear a good ten feet behind the raving Xzar. Gethras watched Xzar whirl around in rage and smiled, then he cried out in alarm and made a rather disgusting choking sound as Montaron's blade came around from behind and slit his gut neatly. Montaron let the lifeless body drop to the ground and grinned, amdiring his work.
"Ye should've ran out the front door when ye had the chance, ye stupid maggot." He suggested to the corpse, shaking his head. Across the room, Xzar lowered his dagger and uttered a small cheer.
"Ha ha there, Monty! Nice fight, eh chum?" He called brightly, if not a little short of breath. Montaron turned his grin up at him.
"Indeed, wizard!" He agreed, "A real hoot." He bent and examined Gethras' corpse as he wiped his blade off on the man's robes, "Ye might want to take a peek at this idiot. He's got some shiny things ye may want." At this Xzar hurried over, "I'm gonna take a look up here, then I'm gonna see what's downstairs. When yer through playing vulture, meet me by the door." About ten minutes later, Xzar came down the stairs to the first floor holding two rings and a parchment.
"A demon summoning scroll and some protection rings." He explained, holding the items up one by one for Montaron to see, "What did you get?" He asked. The halfling held up a large, leatherbound book.
"A gift for yerself." He answered dismally. Xzar hurried over and shoved the items he'd found into his robes in order to take the tome for Montaron's hands. He flipped through the pages and grinned widely. This was Gethras' personal grimoire.
"This is like some great fantasy!" He squealed with delight, then clutched the book to his chest, "Oh this is a fabulous day, Monty!" Montaron shook his head and began herding Xzar towards the door.
"Yes yes." He urged, nearly shoving the other man out the door, "And it's not over yet." He stepped outside and shut the door at his back, "Back to the Harpers we go."
It was cold outside. The wind had picked up as the morning wore on, and being near the sea didn't help either. Never-the-less, the Docks bustled with people; shops down near the water were all open, sailors and cargo men carried crates and barrels back and forth, and between it all Amnish guards patrolled the grounds like big mobile tin cans. Xzar's eyes flicked back to these soldiers spasmodically as he and Montaron made their way down to the shops near the shore. The life of a Zhent was one of constant paranoia.
"Were those men there last night?" He asked his companion, pulling his cloak around his shoulders after fighting the wind for it. Montaron shrugged.
"Who cares. Let's just do what we have to do and if one of them gives us trouble, we just slit his throat. Lickety split." The halfling replied quaintly, eyes focused on an armory shop a few feet below them. The wind made it difficult to descend the city's sloping staircase, and he found he had to fight to keep his balance. When a suddenly strong gust of wind hit him head-on, he teetered back and nearly fell over. Xzar's hand grasped his shoulder painfully and held him up.
"Well now that was amusing!" The tall wizard piped and chuckled, "I wonder if you'll fly off like a kite if the wind picks up enough..." He mused. Montaron grunted and hurried forward, pounding down the steps as fast as he could until he reached level ground and stopped.
"Shut yer mouth lest ye want me to break yer legs." He called up at Xzar as the other man calmly made his way down the steps and to the ground. He had agreed to go to the bazaar and find the wizard a decent quarterstaff -- something he'd never before owned or even held in his hands -- that could be then magically modified into whatever weapon suited his fancy. For all the time they'd been working together, the only weapon Montaron had ever seen Xzar use other than his magic was a dagger; a long, wicked-edged thing that the addled man wielded like a broadsword when things got rough. Today, however, the wizard looked not in the least dangerous -- he looked like a kid in a candy store.
"Couldn't we just take apart a table from the Inn and use one of the legs?" Montaron commented, beginning to wish he hadn't agreed to the small bit of shopping. There was a small cry of delight from his side, and then Xzar hurried off towards the nearest shop; it was the armory. Montaron frowned tempestuously, "So the fool's attracted to shiny things too..." He grunted and went off after his partner. While Xzar examined the shopkeep's goods, the halfling signalled for the vendor's attention.
"Excuse me, sir, but perhaps ye could give me a bit of information." He asked the merchant, who was at least three times his size and wearing some hide armor that made him resemble an ogre. The immense man cracked a wide smile.
"Sure thing, little man!" He replied good-naturedly, "What do you need?" Montaron looked up at the man and squinted his eyes from the bright sunlight that somehow seemed to pierce the thick bed of cloud hanging above.
"My friend..." He cast a quick glance over at Xzar, who was now talking to himself and fondling a pair of dark wood staves, "...and I are looking for a man by the name of Ployer; we have some items to deliver to him, and we were referred here." He asked. The shopkeep's grin widened at this and he leaned heavily on a display of scimitars.
"As if you're actually trying to find Baron Ployer!" He exclaimed and threw his thumb over his shoulder, "His house is just over there, right of the tavern; just go up a bit. You can't miss it, it's got the only damn garden around smack dab in the middle of the front yard." He shook his head, "That Ployer's got more money than everyone in this place put together...including the tavern! I tell you...good man he is, though. His daughter goes to school with my little girl!" He frowned thoughtfully, "Funny though, I ain't never seen his wife." He shrugged and motioned behind him again, "He lives up by the tavern." He resumed matter-of- factly, then peered down at Monatron, "You ain't from around here, are you?" Montaron opened his mouth to answer, suddenly snapping out of the bored daze he'd been in since the shopkeep began babbling Ployer's life story, but Xzar came up beside him and smiled.
"No, we're from the Umar Hills." He replied glibly, getting an incredulous stare from Montaron; he held up an ebon staff, "I'll take this." He payed the nodding merchant and headed back towards the city stairs.
"Tell the Baron that Marcus says hello!" The shopkeep called after the pair as they moved away. Montaron held up his hand to signal that he had heard, then looked up at Xzar.
"Umar Hills, wizard?" He grunted, then made a face, "What in the nine Hells are the Umar Hills? If you made that up..." He started and Xzar sighed.
"It exists! Did you not see the man nod when I said it?" The wizard said, "By the Gods, Monty. Have some faith." Montaron laughed a cold, fake laugh.
"I'll have to be in some bloody apocalyptic predicament before I start putting my faith in a fruitcake like you!" He growled, "So what and where are these Umar Hills of yours?" He came to a halt at the top of the stairs and Xzar blinked.
"I went there this summer to get some mimic blood." The wizard replied, "It's outside the city gates...oh, I'd guess about a day's ride from here. There's a small village at the foot of the hills -- it's much too close to the woods for my liking." He wrinkled his nose, "But it's in those very woods that I fought the mimic!" He dashed out in front of Montaron and made a box shape with his hands, "You know, Monty, mimics take the shape of chests or boxes and they attack when folks make to open or unlock them!" He began excitedly, "So you can imagine how utterly ridiculous this 'chest' looked sitting in the bush...I mean, you'd think the stupid creature would at least try to find a cave or something that would even remotely give folks the idea that this 'chest' was actually some hidden treasure, but not this time..." He bent and pretended to try to unlock an imaginary chest, "...I tried to unlock the thing, of course...because you never know, I could have been wasting my time...and sure as all Hell it polymorphed and leaped for my throat!" He jumped up and clutched his throat. Montaron looked idly around to see if anyone was watching.
"The beast was strong and I'm positive it cut me and I panicked and wrestled it off of me and threw it to the ground!" The wizard went on, continuing his little play, "I threw my dagger at it and pinned it to the ground by its foreleg and while it screeched at me I laughed and cast magic missile on it's pitiful trapped self. At last I bested the monster." He snapped up his new quarterstaff and held it out before him defensively, then sneered and narrowed his eyes, "Oh yes, Monty..." He hissed, staring forward determinedly, "...I am the master of combat." He made a few cutting motions with the staff then snapped it back into a defensive position. Montaron looked over his shoulder again and then back at Xzar. The wizard looked like the bastardized statue of a paladin of Lathander, with his hair whipping in the wind along with his cloak and robes...and that absolutely ridiculous wistful expression on his face. Montaron cleared his throat.
"That's nice." He said plainly, "But aren't mimics tiny little creatures? Ye could step on them and put 'em out of their misery." Xzar's shoulders slumped and he lowered his staff.
"Well if you put it that way..." He snipped petulantly and whirled around, "So Ployer lives right up here, hmmm?" He changed the subject, striding off towards the Sea's Bounty. Montaron hurried along.
"Aye. And he's a Baron too..." Montaron smirked, "...maybe we should take a look around the house before we see him!" He chuckled. They made their way past the tavern and pinpointed a relatively large house with a colorful, healthy flower garden-formation in the front yard. Someone could be seen crouching beside a bunch of tall, fountain-like leaves. As they walked along the edge of the road facing the house, the person busying away beside the leaves popped up and looked in their direction. It was a young girl of about eight or nine.
"Your odour startled her." Xzar whispered to Montaron and snickered nastily as the two of them left the roadway and started along the neat stepping-stone pathway that lead to the front door of Ployer's house. It took all of the willpower Montaron possessed not to lash out and hit his partner; instead, he warily eyed the young girl, who was coming their way. She halted before them and examined them curiously.
"Are you here to see my father?" She asked, speaking to Montaron first (seeing as she was nearly eye-level with him). A few feet above, Xzar clapped a hand to his mouth and bit his lower lip, watching the scene with great amusement. Montaron gave a curt nod.
"If yer father's name be Ployer, then yes we are." He replied, "Is he in this morning?" He was making a tremendous effort not to tell the child to move so he could pass by. The girl nodded, her eyes eating Monty up.
"Yes he is!" She piped, smiling now, "I'll take you to him!" With that, she snatched up Montaron's hand and pulled him towards the house. Xzar cackled and followed after them. As they reached the door, the girl stopped and grinned over at Montaron.
"You're a halfling, aren't you?" She asked excitedly. Montaron rolled his eyes and prayed to all the gods for the brat to be quiet; he had the ill feeling that Xzar would never let him live this little episode down, and the more the girl talked, the worse his situation got.
"Yer a bright one." He snapped with venomous sarcasm, but to his dismay, the sarcasm didn't sink in with the girl the way it did with Xzar. The girl clasped her hands and laughed.
"Oh I knew you were!" She squealed, "I've never seen a halfling before, but my dad said there were some in the neighbourhood." She reached for the doorknob at last, "My name's Atma, what's yours?" She asked brightly, pulling open the door. Montaron pushed past the child and hurried inside.
"Montaron. Now go get yer father, quick. I haven't got all day." He grumbled impatiently as Xzar stepped inside and shut the door at their back. The girl, Atma, furrowed her brow at Montaron's tone, then nodded and hurried off into the house. When she was gone, Montaron held up his hand.
"Don't even try, wizard." He warned, "This is not a good time." There was a chuckle from behind him followed by a rather accurate imitation of Atma asking him what his name was. Before violence broke out, the girl returned with a man.
"See, look! I told you! It's a halfling!" She declared triumphantly, "And his name is Montaron. I don't know what the other man's name is though." She frowned. The man at her side, her father, nodded quickly.
"Yes yes, alright." He agreed with a sigh, "Now go busy yourself elsewhere, Atma. Daddy has business with these men." He waved his daughter off and she traipsied back towards the door. As she crossed Montaron, she smiled.
"See you later, Montaron!" She cooed and hurried out the door. Montaron peered over at Xzar; the wizard mouthed the girl's words, batted his eyelashes and flicked his hair. The halfling gritted his teeth. Across the room, Ployer cleared his throat.
"I assume Edwin sent you." He frowned at the pair, "If you two are quite done making fun of my daughter, then perhaps we can get down to business." He raised an eyebrow and motioned for the two to follow him. He lead them a short ways through the house and into a small study of sorts; once they were inside, he promptly shut the door and signalled for everyone to have a seat. Xzar and Ployer sat in overstuffed chairs and Montaron remained standing.
"Mayhap we could get this over with quickly, Ployer." The halfling said grumpily, still sour about the earlier greeting, "My blade be thirsting for blood. Now who need ye dead?" At this Ployer made a face.
"Not dead exactly." The Baron replied then leaned forward, "I just need this person delivered to me. Her name is Jaheira; she's a druid and a Harper." He explained. Xzar jumped in his seat.
"A Harper?!" He cried in alarm; this mission was just getting more and more impossible by the day. Ployer frowned and gestured for him to be quiet.
"I know what you're thinking, but your organization owes me big and I need this job done post haste!" Ployer growled, "There's a gaudy, orange establishment by the bazaar that serves as a secret hideout for a group of Harpers. No one is supposed to know what that building really houses, but I do...and now so do you. The druid Jaheira is somewhere inside the Harper Hold, hiding from me, and I want her brought to me." He frowned, "They know I am aware of their base in the Docks and they're getting ready to pack their bags and leave because of it...well, that and the fact that there is a Cowled Wizard in the area that has threatened to report their presence here to the Government. They are also aware of what I am after and they're keeping their eyes and ears open in case I make an attempt at taking it. I have little time to make my move; any day now the Harpers could leave town and then it would be months before I could find them again." Xzar idly rolled the staff laying on his lap.
"That's all good and well, my friend, but how do you propose we gain admission into the pansy-brigade's nest?" The wizard asked, giving Ployer an even stare. Ployer leaned back in his chair and shrugged.
"I don't know and I don't care." He replied pointedly, "Just do it fast." Montaron, who's eyes spasmodically flicked around the room's expensive furnishings from time to time, found Ployer's gaze.
"So if we help ye, what's in it for us? This ain't free, you know; we aren't a church group." He demanded shortly. Ployer blinked.
"Did Edwin not tell you that I would help you as a reward?" He asked primly, "Do what I ask of you and I will grant you an audience with a man that will become your greatest ally while you are on this rescue mission of yours." He smiled. Xzar nodded.
"What does this Jaheira woman look like?" The wizard asked curiously, imagining he and his partner busting into the Harper Hold, grabbing the first woman they see, and running out of there like mad. Ployer's answer was quick.
"She's a half-elf. Long hair...the color of yours." He pointed to Xzar's toffee-colored locks, "Grey eyes, average height. She's got an accent. Pretty girl." He smirked then got up, "I bid you good luck." He added. Xzar rose from his seat and Montaron started for the door. Ployer saw them out and back through the house, then paused by the front door.
"I will be waiting." The Baron said with a firm stare before letting the pair leave. When they were outside, Xzar shook his head.
"Well really, a Harper!" He exclaimed with great irritation, then set off down the stepping-stone pathway in a huff, "None are so annoying as those insufferable Harpers!" He mumbled darkly. Montaron went after him, then halted abruptly when Atma jumped into his path. The girl was grinning.
"Hi Montaron!" She piped. Montaron swerved around her.
"Goodbye, Atma." He grumbled and quickened his pace, praying the girl wouldn't follow. To his delight, she didn't; instead, she called out to him when he had reached the roadway ahead.
"It was nice meeting you!" She called, waving enthusiastically, "Come by and visit again!" Montaron ignored her and caught up with Xzar a few steps ahead, his face a mask of utter distaste and annoyance. Xzar turned a grin down at him.
"I think she likes you." He commented in a strangled voice, biting his lip and trying his best not to burst into hysterics. He started to go into another imitation of Atma then cried out when he was quite abruptly shoved to the ground. He looked up to find Monatron crouched over him, teeth clenched and fist reared back to strike. He swallowed hard.
"Oh wait a minute now, Monty!" He pleaded, raising his hands in defense. He yelped as Montaron's fist shot down...and landed inches from his face. The wizard let out a heavy breath and Montaron sneered at him then rapidly got to his feet. Xzar blinked, still somewhat stunned, then pulled himself to his feet with the help of his staff. He glared at Montaron and the other man pointed at him accusatingly.
"Yer wit be as sharp as my blade, wizard." The halfling snapped, "Keep flappin' that smart mouth o' yers and I'll cut ye a new one while yer sleeping." He threatened with quick slashing motion across his throat. Without another word, he turned on his heels and stormed off back in the direction of the tavern. Xzar gritted his teeth and heaved his staff at Montaron's retreating back.
"You are a royal pain, Monty!" He cried shrilly, "And don't threaten me!" Ahead, the staff clattered to the ground a few feet short of Montaron. The halfling cackled and didn't even turn around to speak.
"Ye missed, ye daft wizard!" The thief cried. Xzar literally shook with anger, his fists curled up at his sides; he let out a frustrated yell, startling a man who walked past him, and ran for his staff. He snatched it up off the ground as he zipped by and continued on until he caught up with his partner. Falling into stride alongside the halfling, he jabbed the but of his staff into the other man's ribs.
"Relax!" He hissed, "There's no use walking so fast when there's nowhere to go!" Montaron gripped his side and frowned up at Xzar.
"Well ye may not have cleaned out yer ears during yer bath last night, but I distinctly heard Ployer say that we have to visit the Harper Hold." He replied sharply then made a mocking, dainty gesture with his hand, "And that, my thick friend, is where I'm going." Xzar raised and eyebrow.
"I fail to grasp the sense in that, Monty." He droned as they neared the top of the left-hand city staircase, "What would you have us do when we get there, hmm? Knock on the door and ask to speak to Jaheira?" Montaron paused.
"Yes. That's exactly what I want us to do." He answered seriously, to Xzar's horror, "Just shut up and let me do that talking for once." He started down the stairs. Xzar, a look of terrible apprehension on his face, followed closely behind.
"The humour in that escapes me, Monty." He wheezed uncomfortably. Montaron snorted.
"It wasn't a joke, wizard." He shot back. Xzar's silence was worth a thousand words.
When they reached the garish orange building that Ployer had described earlier on, they resisted the urge to look around paranoidly to see if anyone was watching or following them. They stood before the door for a bit, Montaron gathering his thoughts and Xzar looking tremendously uncomfortable. Montaron looked over at his partner and gave him a dark glare.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, wizard." He growled over at him, unimpressed by his shifty demeanor, "Can ye at least try to look like ye know what we're doing?" He shrugged, "Smile or something." Xzar smiled a wide, fake smile -- he was frightening at best, "Nevermind." Montaron said slowly and turned to face the door. He raised his hand and knocked; behind him, Xzar sighed. A few moments later, a man opened the door.
"Yes?" He asked curiously; he was dressed in peasant clothes. His eyes flicked from Xzar to Montaron; queerly, the eagle-eyed way with which he examined the two betrayed the ordinary garb he wore. This man was most obviously no simple peasant. Montaron forced a small smile.
"Good day to ye." He replied with a slight incline of his head, "This is the Harper Hold, I presume?" He asked uncertainly. He could almost feel Xzar's horror. The peasant's eyes widened and his jaw dropped.
"W-what?" He snapped in a hushed whisper, "Of course not!" He frowned deeply. Montaron put on a confused expression.
"Then why are ye whispering?" He retorted cleverly, whispering as well. The peasant looked over his shoulder quickly and glowered at the two men before him.
"How do you know what this place is, and what do you want?" He demanded. Montaron blinked.
"My friend and I have been researching yer group for a good while now." He said lightly, "We're interested in joining yer ranks. Is that even possible?" He asked innocently. The peasant exhaled loudly.
"Not as such, no. It's...it's really not a good time right now." He replied hastily. The way he danced from foot to foot indicated his desire to end the conversation as quickly as humanly possible. Unfortunately for him, Montaron would not let that happen just yet.
"Really? Well that's too bad." The halfling said, downcast, "Mayhap we could just look around a bit? We came all the way from the Umar Hills, man...that's quite a ways to go to just be turned down like this." He added with a frown. His ploy worked, for the goody-goody Harper-peasant looked conflicted now.
"Like I said...I'm very sorry, sirs, but this is really not a good time." The man at the door said apologetically. When Montaron took a bit too long to respond, Xzar chimed in.
"May I ask why this is not a good time?" The wizard inquired curiously, "Would it perchance be because of a certain Cowled Wizard that knows you are here?" The peasant raised an eyebrow, then eyed him thoughtfully and took a breath.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." He managed and started to close the door, but Montaron's hand shot out and held it open.
"We could silence the man for ye if ye wish." The halfling offered with a smile that was less than benevolent. The moment the man at the door halted, Xzar backed up the offer.
"As a sign of good faith, of course. Something for your group to remember us by." The lithe wizard added, leaning to the side to catch a better glimpse of the pessant; he smiled, "What say you? We silence this wizard for you and you let us have a little peek inside, hmm?" The man at the door considered this for a long moment before answering.
"Be back here before sundown or our deal is off. The wizard's name is Rayic Gethras and he lives right next door. If his gate is open, then he is home...and today his gate is open." He declared. Xzar nodded.
"A fair trade." He agreed and offered a devious smile. The peasant shut the door with a barely audible click. With that, Xzar turned to face Montaron.
"I spoke. I couldn't help myself." He said apologetically and gave the halfling a sheepish smile, "You were about to screw up, anyway." He added. Montaron frowned.
"No I wasn't." He quipped at once, "I was trying to look disappointed ye dolt!" He scolded the taller man. Xzar blinked and flushed.
"Oh." He peeped. Montaron shrugged and strode past him.
"Dah well, wizard. Ye read my mind anyway." He admitted off- handedly. Xzar smiled and followed after him.
"Oh goody good good!" He piped cheerily, then turning to Montaron, "So...do we wait for nightfall to go wizard hunting?" He asked in the same tone he'd use to ask if it was alright if he had a bit to eat before dinner. Montaron snorted.
"No. I'm in the mood for blood now." He answered decidedly, "I'll be in the mood for sleep tonight." He strode determinedly up to the gates of Gethras' house, Xzar close behind. This wasn't going to be very complicated. The halfling walked to the door and knocked, his free hand grasping the dagger beneath his vest. There was a pause, and then a sallow- skinned man opened the door.
"What is it?" He asked suspiciously, holding the door. Xzar smiled.
"Your name isn't Rayic Gethras, is it?" The wizard asked brightly. The sallow thing frowned.
"Yes, wha--" The man began but cried out as Montaron's dagger buried itself in his shoulder. Montaron swore at the miss and then his surprised cry mingled with Xzar's as Gethras' contingency spell went off, a bright flash of light exploding out of nowehere and rendering both of them blind for a short period of time. When they regained sight, Gethras was gone...and Montaron was ripping mad.
"Upstairs!" The halfling roared and bolted towards the staircase at the other end of the room. Xzar slammed the front door shut and ran after his partner. Once on the second floor, they were faced with not one, but two foes: Gethras, who was chanting frantically at the back of room, and an orc-size clay golem. The golem charged Montaron, who was the first up the stairs; with a gleeful shout, the halfling met the creature head-on and fell upon it like a rabid wolf.
Second up the stairs, Xzar's gaze went from the golem to the wizard at the back of the room. He grinned wickedly, "You my friend, are so dead." He purred and launched into an incantation. Gethras was ready well before Xzar, though, and threw out his hands, fingers splayed; a volley of magic missiles rocketed unerringly towards Xzar, but the wizard didn't flinch. The missiles halted about an inch in front of Xzar, then turned back in Gethras' direction...only to be dispelled. Noticing this, Xzar paused in his current incantation and began to chant another; Gethras was Sanctuaried, which meant that no offensive spells could be targeted at him until his protection was removed. He had just about completed the chant when he was thrown to the side by a huge clay arm. Montaron's voice sounded from where he had been standing.
"I told ye to move, wizard!" The halfling cried angrily and danced away from the golem's swerving fist; he spun around to the back of the creature and his sword bit into its chalky hip. A large chunk of clay dropped to the ground with a dull thud. The golem roared and turned around, swinging down with its massive fist and nearly connecting with Montaron's head as the halfling dipped down and propelled himself between its legs, coming up in front of it again. Another chunk of clay hit the ground as Montaron's sword hacked in. It was, he remarked, uncannily like chopping wood.
There was a shout of triumph from Xzar off to the side, and then Montaron was quite suddenly unable to move. He watched in horror, though, as the golem in front of him raised both fists to strike. Just as he resigned himself to death and admitted that he perhaps should have waited until dark to attack Gethras, a group of four flaming arrows veered around the golem's sides and hit fiercely in succession; the creature exploded into chalky bits as the last arrow hit home. When the mess cleared, Montaron's eyes fell upon Xzar; the wizard was staring, wide-eyed, at the pile of dust a few feet in front him. The mage looked at Montaron, frowned, then looked to Gethras in alarm as the man's voice rose up again from the back of the room. His eyes darted from Gethras to Montaron and back again, his chest heaving; he didn't wether to unparalyze his partner or attack Gethras. Montaron wished he could scream.
As if Xzar had read his partern's thoughts, he barked a few words in an ill-known language and shot his arm out, poiting a finger at Gethras. From his position, Montaron had to look out of the corner of his eye to see what was going on; he saw Gethras' hands fly up, but instead of casting a spell, he covered his face with them and let out a blood-curdling scream. Blisters, burns and large, infectious pustules sprouted all over the man's flesh, forming on the skin like foam on boiling water. Montaron chuckled internally; Xzar was not only a wizard, but a necromancer...and the contagion spell was one of his favorites.
The nasty little trick bought Xzar the time he needed to dispel Montaron's paralyzation. Free to move now, Montaron tore after Gethras, sword first. His blade, though, primly bounced off the diseased wizard as if the man had flesh like that of a mustard jelly.
"Do something about that, ye blasted fool!" He yelled at Xzar as Gethras attempted to ignore his festering wounds and began to chant again. Xzar's voice rose over Gethras', but the Cowled Wizard's song was a shorter one; a bolt of crackling, bright blue lightning shot out from Gethras' position and hammered into Montaron, searing his armor and sending him reeling. Xzar's spell went off and Gethras swore, ripping a scroll from the folds of his robes and franctically trying to unroll it with trembling, ravaged hands. Seeing this is as more than a satisfactory opening for some hands-on finishing work, Xzar produced a kris-dagger from his sleeve and charged Gethras.
"I have become death, destroyer of worlds!" The green-robed necromancer cried at the top of his lungs, his dagger raised high. As he came within inches of Gethras, the elder wizard dropped his scroll and muttered a few words then disappeared...only to reappear a good ten feet behind the raving Xzar. Gethras watched Xzar whirl around in rage and smiled, then he cried out in alarm and made a rather disgusting choking sound as Montaron's blade came around from behind and slit his gut neatly. Montaron let the lifeless body drop to the ground and grinned, amdiring his work.
"Ye should've ran out the front door when ye had the chance, ye stupid maggot." He suggested to the corpse, shaking his head. Across the room, Xzar lowered his dagger and uttered a small cheer.
"Ha ha there, Monty! Nice fight, eh chum?" He called brightly, if not a little short of breath. Montaron turned his grin up at him.
"Indeed, wizard!" He agreed, "A real hoot." He bent and examined Gethras' corpse as he wiped his blade off on the man's robes, "Ye might want to take a peek at this idiot. He's got some shiny things ye may want." At this Xzar hurried over, "I'm gonna take a look up here, then I'm gonna see what's downstairs. When yer through playing vulture, meet me by the door." About ten minutes later, Xzar came down the stairs to the first floor holding two rings and a parchment.
"A demon summoning scroll and some protection rings." He explained, holding the items up one by one for Montaron to see, "What did you get?" He asked. The halfling held up a large, leatherbound book.
"A gift for yerself." He answered dismally. Xzar hurried over and shoved the items he'd found into his robes in order to take the tome for Montaron's hands. He flipped through the pages and grinned widely. This was Gethras' personal grimoire.
"This is like some great fantasy!" He squealed with delight, then clutched the book to his chest, "Oh this is a fabulous day, Monty!" Montaron shook his head and began herding Xzar towards the door.
"Yes yes." He urged, nearly shoving the other man out the door, "And it's not over yet." He stepped outside and shut the door at his back, "Back to the Harpers we go."