Chapter 3

            Brynn woke early and went down the common room to enjoy a cup of coffee.  It was still raining outside, and the air was thick, wet and cold, but the warm coals that remained of the fire from the night before still glowed warmly in the center of the room.  She pulled a chair up next to the fire pit and cupped her steaming mug of coffee in her hands. 

            Bernard was shuffling about, cleaning up the bar, and a number of serving women were wiping down the tables and chairs.  One had a bucket and was cleaning the mud and stick remains of spilled drinks off of the floor.

            "How're things going, Bernard?" Brynn asked, sipping at her coffee.

            "Eh, the usual," the large man replied.  "There's always something to be done around this place.  Never have a moment to myself excepting when I'm asleep."

            The door to the back half of the Copper, which had once been a gladiator pit and cells, but was now a number of extra rooms, opened and yawning, Bryseus emerged.  "Good morning," she said, approaching Brynn and pulling up a chair for herself.  "Sleep well?"

            "Mm," Brynn confirmed.  "You?"

            "Yeah."

            "Where's everyone else?"

            "Hsanin and Ashram are praying," Bryseus said, "but I don't know about the rest.  I imagine Anna's asleep yet, same with Alysandyr, and Red's probably curing himself of his post-binge sickness right now.  He's a master with hangover remedies.  I suppose it's from necessity."

            Brynn chuckled.  "Quite a character isn't he?"

            "Don't let him fool you," Bryseus cautioned.  "He's sharp as knives, though he never acts like it.  He plays the fool, but that's all he's doing: playing."

            "I figured as much.  What about Anna? Is she playing too, or is she really how she seems."

            "Nothing's ever how it seems," Bryseus said, "but I'm sure you knew that already.  No, I don't think Anna's playing, not by choice anyway.  I think there are things she doesn't want to think about, so she locks them away.  She puts how she feels right up there on the surface though.  No matter how much she jokes about it, I think she really is fond of Alysandyr."

            "I know how that is," Brynn said softly.  "There are things in my past… I prefer to lock them away too."

            Bryseus nodded.  "Sometimes I wonder if I've done the same thing, and that's why my past is so blank to me.  It must have been something horrible, if I've blocked it out completely.  I'd rather think I just hit my head on something and forgot."

            "Mm,"   Brynn murmured.  "Another question, do you get the sense that Ashram and Alysandyr are bitter about what they've endured?  I thought I heard that in their voices last night, but I'll admit I was a little muddled from drink."

            "Ashram is, though he tried very hard not to be.  Every time someone looks at his eyes and shrinks back it hurts him terribly, I think.  He fights that though, because there's no room for self-pity and bitterness in a paladin's heart.  I think that he fights little battles with the evil within himself everyday."

            "No one ever said being a paragon of law and goodness was easy, or that there weren't any temptations," Brynn agreed.  "Paladins feel the same base urges as the rest of us, they just fight them better.  I don't think a lot of people give them the credit they deserve for it.  But what about Alysandyr?"

            Bryseus frowned thoughtfully.  "Ally's not bitter so much as sad and wary.  Every time something good has happened to him it's gone awry, and it's like he's just waiting for it to happen again."

            "I see.  And what about Hsanin?  What's under the surface there?  He seems pretty straightforward to me."

            "Heh," Bryseus laughed.  "Hsanin's straightforward all right.  He's got his little fears though, same as the rest of us.  He's overprotective of me; then again, I'm the same way about him.  I think he thinks he's going to end up like his parents and grandparents, dead or vanished.  We never much talk about it though, he's boxed that portion of his life up quite nicely and he's tried to move on."

            "What about you then?  What's beneath your exterior?"

            Bryseus was quiet for sometime.  "I don't really know," she said at last.  "It's harder to see your own heart than the hearts of others.  I can't be objective, really.  I guess I'd say I try very hard to be on the outside what I am on the inside.  That is, a person who wants to see the world become a place where no one has to hurt or fear, but who also knows that something like that is impossible, and beyond my ability to create."

            Brynn though about that for a while.  "If you had the power though, would you do it?"

            Bryseus shook her head slowly, her brow furrowed.  "No, I wouldn't," she said.  "I'd like to, but I wouldn't.  I know that my perfect vision of the world would be the same vision that anyone else has.  It'd be the worst kind of tyranny to impose my will on others, even for their own good." At that Brynn nodded in agreement, and seeing that, Bryseus pursued her thought further.  "Besides which, I've come to think that good can't be comprehended unless there is evil in the world.  If I wiped out all evil, how would anyone be able to know what evil truly is, and how could they choose to avoid it?  There would be no way to tell, and who knows, without that knowledge we might slip toward evil without ever really realizing it."

            "Good," Brynn said.  "Very good.  I'm sure now of the choice I've made."

            "Which is?"

            "We'll help you and your friends out, Bryseus de Rowan.  You've proven wiser than I thought, though admittedly, I'm no fountain of wisdom myself."

            "So all those questions were some kind of test that helped you decide what to do?" Bryseus asked.

            "Well, no," Brynn answered.  "I made my decision last night, but I just wanted to make sure I'd made the right choice.  As I said, I was a little muddled when it came time to make a choice.  Plus I wanted to get to know you better."

            Bryseus smiled.  "Red told me once that he makes all of his decisions twice.  Once when he's drunk, and then again in the morning when he's sober.  That way he doesn't unconsciously restrict his way of thinking and weeds out the silly ideas before something bad happens."

            "I get the feeling that that sort of logic is typical Redleaf."

            "What is?" Redleaf asked curiously, emerging from the same door Bryseus had come from.  His red hair was neatly combed and pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, and his green eyes were merry and alert.

            "I was telling Brynn about how you make decisions," Bryseus explained.

            "Ah," said Redleaf.  "I assume you see the inherent wisdom and wish to copy me?"  He grin a crooked little grin.  "Don't both of you bow down at once, though, it'll send my ego sky high."

            Brynn smiled.  "Could it get any higher?"

            "Oh!" Redleaf said dramatically, clutching at his heart, "you've skewered me, madam!"  He stumbled about for a moment, as if in death throes, and then sprawled over one of the tables a particularly pretty serving maid was trying to wipe down.

            "Well!" the girl exclaimed, uncertain as to what to do.  "What's wrong with you?"

            "I lie near death, but I think a kiss from a beauteous maiden might save me," Redleaf replied.  "Lay one on me, sweetheart." He puckered his lips expectantly.

            The girl just laughed and slapped his shoulder lightly.  "Oh, you're a laugh! Now go die elsewhere, I've cleaning to do."

            Redleaf rolled onto the ground, catching himself expertly.  "Oh! I'm doubly slain! Cruel maiden, you've sealed my fate!"

            "'ere now, get up off the floor, you great fool," Bernard ordered roughly.  "And mind you leave the serving girls be, or else I'll have at you meself."

            Redleaf sat up.  "The lady knows I was joking, right, honey?"

            The serving girl laughed again and continued her work without any other reply.  Sighing loudly, Redleaf got up off the floor and pulled up a chair near Brynn and Bryseus.  "That's the response I always get from the fairer sex.  They think they're laughing with me, but what they can't get is that I'm not laughing."  He shook his head sadly.  "I don't understand why Ally-boy doesn't use his charms to woo the ladies.  If I was as handsome as him, you'd bet I would.  No doubt I'd be more successful too."

            "I don't think Alysandyr is as much of a playboy as you are, Red," Bryseus said.  "He's got what we civilized folks like to call manners."

            "Thrice murdered by the cruel barbs of women!" Redleaf exclaimed in an injured voice.  "Not only am I a laughable egotist, but now I've got no manners too!  Pardon me, but I'm going to throw myself out a window now before you can come up with any worse jabs."  He stood and made for the stairs.

            "Oh, sit down, Redleaf, please?" Brynn appealed to him.  "We didn't mean it.  Sit down and I'll have Bernard get you a cup of coffee too, all right?"

            "Well, all right," Redleaf replied, feigning reluctance, "but skip the coffee, I'm fine without it."  He sat again and squinted against the warmth of the coals.

            "Bryseus was just telling me about your hangover remedies," Brynn said conversationally.

            "Oh? How's your head this morning?"

            "Fine, but sometime…" Brynn smiled ruefully, "… Sometimes I do over do it a little."

            "Be careful, you'll pop all of Bry's little delusions about you if you're not careful," Redleaf warned.  "All the way here she was talking about you like you never did anything remotely naughty.  Evidence otherwise might send her into fits."

            "Red! That's not true and you know it!" Bryseus growled, her cheeks darkening with a blush.

            "Lady Trueblade, I assure you that I'm not fibbing," Redleaf said to Brynn.  "Don't pay her any mind; she worships the ground you walk on."

            Bryseus fumed.  "I'm going to throw myself out a window now, I'm so embarrassed," she muttered.  "Better yet, I'll throw you out, Red."

            Redleaf grinned jauntily.  "Sure you will, Bry.  Hey, Hsanin and that squirrel Ashram still bowing and scraping?  I'd've expected them out here by now, what with them being early risers and all."

            "Squirrel?" Brynn inquired.  "I've never heard a paladin called a squirrel before."

            "Oh, there's something squirrelly about that guy," Redleaf assured her.  "Thorple says so.  Hey! I never showed you my weasel like I promised!"

            "That's okay," Brynn said quickly.

            "Nah, a promise is a promise, much to my dad's dismay," Redleaf said.  He got up and headed for the door to the back rooms.  "I'll be back quicker than you can say 'fire blight.'"

            "He is just bringing a weasel right?" Brynn asked Bryseus nervously.  "I can't quite tell yet when he's joking and when he's serious."

            Bryseus shrugged.  "It is hard to tell.  I think he's really bringing Thorple though, but just in case, be prepared to shield you eyes."

            Soon Redleaf came back, a long creature with shiny, mottled-brown fur curled around his neck like a scarf.  Two beady black eyes peered out behind a small, pink nose and long lustrous whiskers.  "Meet Thorple," Redleaf said, sitting down and unwrapping the weasel from around his neck.  He held Thorple out, gripping him below around the middle.  Thorple wiggled his nose a little, his short little legs dangling in the air, but he didn't seem to mind.  "Here," Redleaf said, setting the weasel in Brynn's lap, "you can hold him.  He likes women almost as much as I do."

            Brynn recoiled briefly, but then calmed down as Thorple curled up in her lap, his head on his front paws, and fell promptly asleep."

            "Lazy little bastard," Redleaf said, giving his weasel an affectionate look. "He likes to sleep in almost as late as Anna."

            "Is Anna not an early riser?" Brynn inquired.

            "Nope," Redleaf said.  "She seems to think that the day begins at noon."

            The sound of two sets of footsteps approaching heralded the arrival of Hsanin and Ashram.  The two of them quickly came and sat down with the others.  Hsanin requested a cup of coffee and Ashram a cup of hot tea from one of the serving girls, and when their beverages arrived they settled into their chairs contentedly.

            "Lovely morning, isn't it?" Hsanin asked, smiling peacefully as he sipped his coffee.

            "Hsanin, you delusion bastard, have you even looked outside this morning?" Redleaf demanded.

            "It's raining cats and dogs," Brynn agreed.

            "Screw that, it's raining lions and dire wolves," Redleaf said emphatically.  "If this is a lovely morning I'll shave my weasel."

            In Brynn's lap, Thorple perked his ears up and chattered irritably.

            "Every morning is lovely because it brings the renewal of the daylight hours," Hsanin said.

            "Indeed," agreed Ashram.  He savored a sip of his tea and added, "So says the Morninglord."

            "Great green groves! You two are… are…" Redleaf slumped into his chair, unable to find words to express what he thought Hsanin and Ashram were.  "You're just crazy," he mumbled.  "Clerics and paladins! Nuttier than a chipmunk's cheeks in autumn!"

            "Who is? What're you bastards talking about?"  That was Anna. She stretched and yawned, then scratched under her breasts and took a seat near the others.  Brynn noticed that she had her sword with her, though she was wearing only a pair of socks and a long cotton tunic.

            "Anna, must you take that thing with you where ever you go?" Ashram asked.  "And please put some pants on," he added when Anna propped her legs up on one of the tables. Her tunic scrunched up and revealed a risqué amount of leg.

            "What for? Ain't nothing no one here ain't seen before.  'Sides, my legs ain't nothing to be ashamed of.  That and my pants need washing before I wear 'em again.  To answer your other question, you never know when some dumb ass is going to try and take you in a fight.  Carrying a weapon just keeps 'em from succeeding."

            "Well that's a practical point of view if I ever heard one," Brynn said.  "What do you do when you want to go somewhere and you aren't allowed to take your sword?"

            Anna said, "I don't go.  I don't want to be somewhere my sword ain't allowed."  She looked around.  "Where's Alysandyr?  He's usually up by now."

            "Last I knew he was in bed, sleeping," said Redleaf.

            "Want me to go get him?"

            Brynn said, "If you would.  I've got some things I need to address to your whole group and since most of you are up and about we might as well start now."

            Anna nodded.  "Sure thing," she said, and then she swung her feet off of the table, stood up, and went back to fetch the bard.

            Brynn heard Redleaf stifle a laugh, and so she turned to look at him.  "What?" she asked.

            "Nothing," Redleaf said, grinning madly.  "Nothing at all."

            "Nothing my ass," Bryseus growled.  "Red, what do you know that we don't?"

            "Well…"

            "I believe I know," said Ashram grimly.  "Alysandyr's clothes and pack were wet from yesterday's rain, thus he slept… how shall I put this…"

            "Naked as a baby bird!" Redleaf burst out.  "He's naked, and knowing Anna she's going to pull the covers right of his pale arse!"

            "Indeed," Ashram agreed.  "Perhaps we ought to…"

            There was a shout from the back rooms, and then an exclamation from Anna that carried all the way out into the common room, "Gods above us!  I'm going to have to wake you up more often!"

            "Too late," Hsanin sighed.  "Poor Alysandyr."

            Brynn giggled, earning her a strange look from Bryseus.  Perhaps Bryseus hadn't expected a hero to giggle.  Guffaw, maybe, but not giggle.

            Eventually Alysandyr and Anna joined the others by the fire.  Alysandyr's face was as red as the coals, and Anna looked distinctly pleased.

            "If I ever see as fine an ass again I'll eat my sword," she said, smiling.

            Thought Brynn hadn't thought it possible, Alysandyr blushed harder.  "Might we forget about this whole incident?"

            "I won't talk about it," said Anna, "but I'll die before I forget it."

            Alysandyr sighed resignedly.  "I suppose that is the best I can hope for," he said.

            Brynn said, "All right, enough of Alysandyr's assets.  We've business to discuss." When she had everyone's attention she continued, "Last night the Blades and I discussed how we might help you out, and came to the decision that some of us would accompany you on your expedition.  You get the benefit of our battle prowess, our equipment, and most importantly, our dragon-slaying experience.  That is, if you want us to come along."

            Hsanin nodded his assent.

"Do we ever!" Bryseus said exuberantly.

            "Yes, your assistance would be most welcome," Ashram said.

            "So long as you don't drink more'n your fair share of the beer, you're welcome," Redleaf agreed.

            "Eh, more hands make the work easier," said Anna.

            "Indeed they do, and I have a feeling that we will need all the help we can get," Alysandyr added.  His cheeks were still bright red.

            "Great," Brynn exclaimed.  "Let's adjourn to the war room then and discuss it in more detail.  Oh! But first I have presents for you! Come on!"  Excitedly she stood and headed up the stairs, Bryseus and company following after her feeling a little perplexed.  What sort of presents could Brynn have in mind?

            Most of the Blades were already seated inside their headquarters relaxing and talking.  The sole exception was Jaheira, who had stubbornly decided to remain in the room she and Khalid shared in order to avoid Redleaf.  Brynn shook her head inwardly, but though she wanted to she was not about to try and convince Jaheira to give the eccentric druid a second chance.  She knew better than to think that would work.  Either Jaheira would change her mind in time or she wouldn't. 

            On the table in the center of the room were four ordinary-looking cloth sacks, each about the same size.  Brynn ushered her guests over to the table and said, "So  last night I spent some time thinking, after the whole group had broken up to get some sleep, that really, we ought to share and share alike since all of us are going to be working together, and I hit on an idea."  She opened one of the cloth sacks and thrust her arm into it all the way up to her shoulder, though that seemed impossible from the dimensions of the sack, and withdrew first one longsword, and then another.  The first sword bore a beautifully adorned red hilt and the second a huge blue gem.  "Bryseus, unless I miss my guess you like to dual-wield longswords?"

            Bryseus nodded, wondering what Brynn had in mind.  She had an idea, but it seemed far too unlikely.  "I do," she said.

            "Well, then these are for you, on loan until the end of the mission, at which point I may or may not decide to let you keep them.  The red-hued sword is the Blade of the Roses.  It may just seem pretty, but there are powerful magical enchantments on it, making it a worthy addition to just about any well-stocked arsenal.  The second blade is one we found all the pieces to during our various and sundry travels and then had Cromwell the Dwarf re-forge it.  It's called Equalizer.  I think it was made by a devotee of some neutral god or another, but regardless it causes extreme death to all things very good and very evil.  The closer your opponent comes to being completely neutral the less harm it does.  I'm pretty sure that old Balagos is evil, so use it in good health." One by one she handed the swords to Bryseus.

            "I don't know what to say," Bryseus said softly, taking the swords with reverent hands.  "Thank you."

            "Don't mention it.  The point is for us all to be as well-prepared as possible, that way there's less death and pain on our side, and more on Balagos'."  Brynn dug her hand back into the back and fished around for a moment.  "Mm, not in there… Maybe the other one…" she went through two more of the bags before she found the item she was looking for in the fourth.  She retrieved a pair of scimitars, and said, "These are for you, Redleaf.  The first blade is Belm, and the second is unnamed, but is enchanted with powerful magic. I figure you might be able to figure out something to call it.  Lefty maybe, or righty, depending on which hand you use it in.  You do dual-wield too, right?"

            "I trained with rangers for a while," said Redleaf, taking the blades with a grin, "That's one of the first lessons.  The way they figure it, if you got an extra hand, and you're not a klutz, you might as well use it to do something other than hold a big bulky shield."

            "Wonderful," Brynn said.  "I'm glad.  Um, next, if I can remember where I put it, I have a lovely present for you, Hsanin…"

            "No need, lady Trueblade," Hsanin said.  "I thank you for the thought, but the weapon that served my father will serve me as well.  Dawnbringer has never failed me yet, and tales tell of my father laying waste to the evil armies of the Legion of the Chimera without so much as breaking a sweat.  Though I doubt those tales have not been exaggerated by his friends, I have felt Dawnbringer's power, and I trust that it will be enough."

            "Okay, fine by me," Brynn assured him.  "I know the extreme end of attachment to weaponry, so I understand how you feel." She dug into one of the bags and drew out a finely crafted rapier.  "This," she said with a crooked smile, "is York."

            "York?" Inquired Alysandyr, suspecting that, since he was the only one likely to use a rapier, the weapon was meant for him.  "What an odd name."

            "It belonged, as I remember, to an even odder bard, a woman by the name of Liera Denre, who through some strange circumstances ended up owing a large sum to a merchant and was forced to sell him her sword.  We were browsing in the merchant's shop when we heard her and the shop owner start to argue.  Denre stormed out in a huff, and feeling sorry for her, I convinced the shop owner to trade me the rapier for a few gems we were intending to sell, and then we tracked Denre down.  I presented her with the sword, and she said 'thank you,' and then promptly vanished.  We tried to find her for weeks, but to no avail.  So, if you don't mind the fact that York's previous owner might come looking for it, you may have it."

            "Thank you, my lady," said Alysandyr.

            Brynn handed him the rapier.  "No thanks necessary.  My only request is that is Denre does come looking for her sword you give it back to her."

            "As you wish."

            "Wonderful.  Now then, that leaves the two of you," she said, looking between Anna and Ashram.  "I thought long and hard about what to give you two, since I haven't got any weapons appropriate for either of you.  Unless I was mistaken last night I believe that you, Ashram wield a falchion?"  Ashram nodded.  "And, Anna, of course, has her fullblade, which I've had magical versions of, but then promptly sold because none of us even stood a chance at using one.  So, for you two I have something maybe as good." She reached into one of the bags again and pulled out first an entire suit of plate mail made from the scales of red dragon, and then a second suit made from the scales of a shadow dragon.  "These scales match the heads above the door, and we had them made by Cromwell the Dwarf.  Since we acquired these suits those of us who used them have gotten better armor, but they're still better than regular plate mail by a long shot.  A really long shot.  The shadow dragon scale will fit Anna, and I believe the red dragon scale will with Ashram.  If not I can do some more digging and come up with something better."

            "You are most gracious, my lady," Ashram said, accepting the armor with a bow.

            "Yeah, thanks," Anna added.  "If you ever find any more of those enchanted fullblades, you'll know where to send 'em."

            "I sure will," agreed Brynn.  "Now, let's get down to the other half of our business, shall we? Did you guys have any specific plans already?"

            "We intended to follow the most likely path that Lesley and his company would have taken, and track them as far as we could," Hsanin explained.  "As far as what to do after that… well, we planned to cross that bridge when we came to it.  Any advice you might have would help."

            "I was thinking of stopping at Nalia's keep, since it's a week or more worth of travel from here to Balagos' lair," Brynn told them.  "From there we could go on foot, or borrow some horses from the keep stables and ride."

            "Riding would be faster," Anomen pointed out.

            "Really?" Haer'Dalis inquired sarcastically.

            "Hush, you," Brynn scolded him.  "Anyhow, that was the plan I came up with."

            Anna complained, "What? Don't you got magic or something that could take us there quicker? You're the bloody Blades of Honor after all.  Saved the Sword Coast and all that.  You gotta have a spell or two up your sleeves."

            "Anna!" Ashram hissed, "Watch you mouth! We are guests after all."

            "What? Guests can't speak sense?  Why don't ya pull that big stick out of your arse for a minute and look at this from the eyes of some one who ain't a paladin.  No sense in being so polite that you make dumb plans."

            Ashram's cheeks turned nearly as red as his eyes, whether from embarrassment or anger Brynn could not tell, as he struggled to find something to say.

            Imoen saved him the trouble.  "Listen, kiddo," she said in the sternest voice she could muster, which wasn't much, considering she was more or less a child at heart herself, "We would pull out all the magical stops, so to speak, if it weren't for the fact that magic of the sort you're talking about is one, expensive, and two, not always as reliable, especially if you're going somewhere you've never been before.  Best spell I can think of that'd do what you want is teleportation circle, which requires one thousand gold worth of amber dust, and reasonably good description of the place you want to get to.  Now, I haven't been anywhere near Balagos' lair myself, and neither have you or any of your friends, which means that the spell might or might not work, and despite the fact that we've more gold than we know what to do with sometimes none of us fancy wasting a thousand on a spell that didn't work.  Get what I'm trying to say?"

            Anna, pale as newly fallen snow, nodded slowly.

            "What's more is, I'd take your friend's advice and watch your yap.   Not everyone's going to be as nice as me and Brynn and the rest, so a little tact can go a long way toward making sure your head stays on your shoulders."

            "Uh… yeah," said Brynn after a moment of utter silence, "that about covers it."

            "I suppose it does," Imoen agreed, turning a bit red.  She sat back in her chair and composed herself.  "Hey, no hard feelings? Right?"  She smiled in Anna's direction.  "I guess Brynn's morning grumpies have finally worn off on me."

Anna said nothing, only made a very slight noise that sounded something like an affirmative whimper.

            "So…" Bryseus said, drawing the word out to catch attention, "Brynn's plan sounds fine to me.  As for riding, I'd prefer that to walking myself, but I don't speak for everyone."

            "I have my own mount," Ashram said, "and I too would prefer to ride."

            "All right then," Brynn said, "anyone not want to ride?"  No one spoke up.  "So then, our plan is to go to the keep, get horses, and ride the rest of the way to Balagos' lair and see if we can't find any signs of the halfling and his companions along the way.  Fair enough?"

            The general consensus was that it was indeed fair enough.  Aside from those not going, Anna was the only one not to voice her opinion on the matter. 

            "Excellent, then, unless there are any serious objections, I say we wait until tomorrow and get a good start in the morning.  Maybe the rain will have let up by then."

            Once more, there were no objections, and the meeting more or less broke up.  Most everyone went their own way, either back to their room to study spells, in the case of Imoen, or brood over poetry, in Alysandyr's case, or to various other parts of the Copper and other locales within the city to take care of personal business.  Nalia and Anomen adjourned to their own private room to discuss the sad business of their imminent separation; nobody bothered them, not wanting to interrupt and serious conversation, or serious canoodling for that matter.  Aerie and Dynaheir discussed what was slowly but surely becoming their most frequent topic of conversation, the care and management of one's ranger-berserker protector.  Meanwhile Minsc consulted Boo on the trouble to be faced watching over not one witch but two, and the extra trouble that occurred when both witches were not going to be in the same general place at once.  What Boo's advice was only Minsc knew, but it apparently set the huge ranger's mind at ease about the matter.

            Brynn remained in the main room of her headquarters along with Yoshimo, Bryseus, Hsanin and Ashram, enjoying some friendly conversation.

            "I'm sorry about the way Anna spoke to you," Bryseus said.  "We've really got to stop letting her have her own way so much."

            "It's okay, she's just kid," Brynn replied.

            "A foul mouthed one," Yoshimo commented. "I wish I could have gotten away with such insolence with only a tongue lashing when I was a boy.  Imoen was right to put her in her place."

            "I'm surprised you did not correct her, lady Trueblade," Ashram said.  "It may be presumptuous of me to say so, but I never picture lady Imoen as the ah… disciplinarian type."

            "Neither did I," Brynn told him frankly.  "I guess my 'morning grumpies' really are rubbing off on her."

            "Well I…" Hsanin began.

            A loud shout from Jaheira, who was at the other end of the room, cornered by Redleaf into a conversation of some sort, interrupted him.  "Blast it all, you freakish little bastard! What's wrong with you?"

            "N-n-now Jaheira, please don't shout so," Khalid cautioned, trying to calm his irate wife down.  "He was just trying to discuss the matter…"

            "Don't you take his side!"

            "I'm n-not; I'm merely trying to point out that there is no r-reason to overreact."

            "Yeah, I was only trying to have a philosophical debate, sweetheart, no reason to get so… urk…" Redleaf broke off as Jaheira reached for his throat.  "Hey now, doll, no need to get violent."

            "If you call me 'honey,' 'sweet cheeks,' 'doll,' or any variation on that theme, again I will rip your head from your neck with my bare hands!" Jaheira threatened.

            "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey, calm down a minute! I didn't mean it rude-like, just friendly."

            Jaheira regained her composure.  "You and I, you unnatural cretin, will never be friends."  She said ominously.  Then she stomped off.

            Bewildered, Redleaf called after her, "Sorry!"  He let out a loud sigh and walked over to sit with the others.  Khalid came too, though he paused for a while, torn between going to calm his wife down and a desire to avoid confrontation.  He figured Jaheira was in the 'throwing things at walls' stage, and it was best to wait until she had vented a bit before going into range of lobbed pillows and books, among other, more deadly items.

            "Redleaf," Hsanin said, "What exactly did you say to her?"

            "Nothin'," Redleaf said, throwing his hands up in the air.

            "Not quite," Khalid corrected.

            "All right, all right," Redleaf conceded, "but I was just trying to have a friendly discussion with her."

            "Red, your version of friendly and other people's versions of friendly differ," Bryseus said.

            "Sometimes I wonder if your version of friendly borders on the obscene or not," Brynn put in.  "I remember comments on my 'bouncy bottom' and your 'weasel' from last night."

            "You had better have been kidding, friend," Yoshimo added flatly.

            "Of course I was.  And I wasn't obscene to Jaheira, just straightforward."

            "What exactly did you say?" Brynn asked.

            "Oh, I dunno, just that she and I ought to talk philosophy."

            "I d-distinctly remember hearing you say, 'So, I think your view of this whole balance business is wrong. Let me explain,'" Khalid said.

            Brynn winced.  "Eeeug.  No wonder she reacted so badly."

            "Sometimes, Redleaf, I swear you are almost as bad as Anna," said Ashram.

            "Oh sure, compare me to a child," Redleaf grumped.  "I'm no teenager.  I'm twenty-one."

            "Actually, twenty-one for a half-elf is something like sixteen for a human," Brynn pointed out.  "So, you are a teenager."

            "Well, then that explains it.  Teenagers are as dumb as rocks.  I excuse myself from any faults," Redleaf stood up, gave a mock bow and continued, "I gotta go feed my weasel.  Thorple gets crankier than mother bear when he's hungry." He went downstairs then, whistling something to himself, completely at ease.

            "He absolves himself a lot, doesn't he?" Brynn asked.

            Hsanin nodded.  "All the time."

            "On the bright side, he seems to be very happy.  How wonderful," Yoshimo commented, his voice dripping sarcasm.

            "I th-thought Jaheira was going to-to kill him," Khalid said emphatically.  Under his breath he added.  "I though I m-m-might kill him too, if he d-didn't stop egging her on."

            Brynn chuckled at that.  "This is going to be an interesting trip."