When Artemis Entreri first saw the details of the new contract, he immediately seized the opportunity, claiming the target as his own and to whomever he chose to share it with. He then collected the substantial up-front fee that he and his dark companion had earned the right to demand, based on their incredible reputation.
Entreri had claimed the contract for a number of reasons; foremost among them was the sheer amount of reward being offered. In the bounty business, the higher the reward, the less likely the hunter would be able to be successful at the contract. The top reasons for this logic were fairly obvious to interpret; the target would kill the hunter, the target would elude the hunter, or the hunter would find and capture the target and then be waylaid by fellow "colleagues" who desired the reward for themselves. Thus the standard practice was for a hunter to simply claim many of the lesser contracts, a longer (though far safer) route to be sure. The big bounties were generally claimed only by the truly proficient or by the occasional ranger.
While Entreri and Jarlaxle were perhaps the greatest bounty hunters in the region, the assassin was not confident of the outcome of this hunt by any measure. That, then was the other reason behind this quest. Entreri, for all his stoicism, could not deny the excitement that lengthened his strides toward his companion. An excitement wrought from the promise of a worthy challenge, an opponent that would not be defeated before the combat had truly begun. Someone who would interpret the assassin's devious attacks and respond with cunning counters of his own.
Of all the warriors Artemis Entreri had ever met, the drow ranger, Drizzt Do'Urden, had been the only fighter to measure up to these high standards. But Entreri had long ago separated his path from that one, and he refused to give in to the weakness of his character that was pride by hunting for that dark elf. But here, here was a possible answer to his desire.
"Pray tell me that you are joking!"
Jarlaxle's face was that of sheer incredulity, and Entreri believed that for once, Jarlaxle was not masking his true emotions.
"Or better yet, tell me that my keen ears have heard you wrong. And though that would mean that my hearing is fading due to age, I would vastly prefer it to any other reply you might provide!"
When Entreri made no move to confirm Jarlaxle's hopes, the drow once again cast his gaze toward the heavens, swearing quickly and fluently in several languages. Entreri, though he couldn't understand almost any of the cursing, was able to grasp the gist of what the muttering contained.
"Have you any idea how difficult an elven rogue, an evil and possibly mad rogue at that, may prove to be?" Jarlaxle asked in serious tones, staring at his friend.
"I may have an inkling or to," Entreri said, smirking wryly at his elven companion.
Jarlaxle paused for a moment or two, then shrugged his concession to the point.
"You surprise me, Jarlaxle. I had thought that you would be quite eager for this particular quarry. The racial enmity between the Drow and their surface cousins is legendary. Why, Drizzt himself nearly joined in with the rest of his raiding party in the slaughter of a band of faeries." This was a true, though skewed, observation of Drizzt in his first encounter with his elven cousins.
Jarlaxle, who had done some detailed research on that incredible drow, knew the truth of that night and didn't even bother to respond to it. Instead he indicated himself with a finger and said, "Do I look the part of a racist fool? Blind to the truths that are twistedly given to all drowlings, and ignorant to the dark pleasures enjoyed by the drow alone, not the surface elves?"
While Entreri gave the mercenary credit for the fair speech, he also noted the gleam that flared to life in the drow's dark eyes. The assassin himself had firsthand knowledge that the earliest lesson scars the deepest. He also knew when a question was being sidestepped.
"Indeed. From all that you've told and all that I have seen, the false truths are given to all young dark elves. Yourself included, Jarlaxle."
To this, the drow mercenary merely smiled. "Very well then, Assassin. Lead on."
The diminutive goblin slowly opened its eyes. It lay on its side in a small, once peaceful woodland clearing. The reason it was no longer peaceful was because of the sudden appearance of an elf. Insane fires burned in his eyes as the pointy-eared demon swiftly cut a swath of death and carnage through the surprised goblin band. So swift had his ambush been that he was across the small glade before his first victims had finished falling into the dark embrace of death. In his wake was left two parallel lines of goblin corpses, with a clear path between the two ranks of deceased.
The goblin assumed from its motionless companions that it was the sole-survivor of the elven onslaught. Not being a courageous creature, it held no thoughts of hunting the elf down for revenge. It simply wanted to crawl out of this trice-damned forest in one piece, with as much of its lifeblood inside its body as possible, as opposed to outside.
With that desire still ringing in its mind, the goblin slowly moved its hand to the vicious wound. Gasping from the pain that erupted from even that light touch, it marveled again that luck had left the wound serious but not fatal. The goblin then placed its palm on the ground, preparing to rise from the blood of its kin.
It never even heard the footsteps.
Perhaps the elf had been there all along, toying with the poor creature, giving it the illusion of hope when there was none. The goblin didn't know the answer or care, all that was the creature's focus was the serrated edge that had appeared suddenly (so very suddenly!) before its eyes. The blade was still red from the previous victims, for the elf hadn't bothered to wipe the blade clean. The blade was angled perpendicular to the ground, with the goblin's side-turned gaze able to view it with both eyes.
"Pleases! Oh, please don't kills me!" The goblin begged, reliving the terror it had felt moments ago. Its orbs wide, the goblin never once blinked nor averted its gaze from the wicked edge. If possible, the quietly spoken response only heightened that fear.
"And you with shed tears of scarlet."
Before the horrified creature had the chance to speak anything else, the elf gracefully stepped over the goblin, placing both his feet behind it while his weapon was still in front of the prone goblin's face. He then snapped his arms into the motion of a viscous uppercut. The blade slashed through both the creature's eyes, then diagonally upward halfway through the skull
The elf left then, leaving the goblin to cry its crimson tears.
The hunting duo came upon the grisly scene less than a day later. Quickly surmising that the slaughter was fairly recent, they began inspecting the scene. They soon found the last goblin, for the fatal blow had not been delivered in combat.
"A slash across the eyes," Jarlaxle confirmed, recognizing the signature finishing attack. In all previous incidents, the final blow was always delivered in such a fashion. Upon further inspection, they also realized that the initial wound was administered in a way designed to cripple, not kill. The elf had saved this target for last.
When they discerned which party arrived in which direction, they realized that neither force had been laying in wait. Neither the elf nor the goblins had prepared to waylay any travelers, so pure chance must have made the two meet.
Again, this fit the profile they had been informed of. Some wanderers had reported of being just a few instants from crossing paths the elf. A few breaths too soon or a few breaths too late had saved a few fortunate travelers, while others not so lucky were never heard from again, unless found in a like manner to this one.
As more and more of the pieces began to fit into place, Artemis found his respect for the elven bounty growing. He doubted that either he or Jarlaxle could have dispatched the monsters any swifter, not by wielding only one weapon. From the nature of the wounds, they had discerned that the elven fighter had wielded a two-handed weapon with a blade on one end, possibly a sword or some type of composite staff.
However, no matter how high his respect climbed, Entreri was never afraid, nor nervous. While the Elf had shown considerable skill with the weapon, Entreri had two of his own. And Jarlaxle… even Entreri wasn't sure just how many tricks were concealed on his lithe frame. Far more than Entreri would have believed possible, to be sure.
They had tracked the elven trail for a full day without rest before they found the elusive elf. While he had been as adept as any elf at concealing his passing, the hunting duo had resorted to magical means whenever necessary. While they did not know enough of the elf for a traditional scrying, they had found no trace that the elf had wiped his blade free of blood after combat. All they had needed was a sample from one of the corpses for them to find the way to the elf as clearly as if the elf had left detailed instructions as to his location.
Having decided that an ambush would be quite efficient, they had circled around the swift elf to get in front of him. While Entreri would be waiting for their quarry in another small glade, Jarlaxle would be hidden in the brush, ready to take full advantage.
When he was finally able to view the elf, Entreri was able to confirm the weapon was a light, well-balanced staff with a slender blade at one end, stained in dried blood. From then on though, events did not proceed as planned. Without a second glance around, the elf pointed his staff at the well-concealed Jarlaxle and uttered a triggering rune. Ever cautious where magic was concerned, Jarlaxle didn't hesitate to jump out of his cover to scramble behind the thick trunk of an oak tree.
From the blade's tip erupted five blazing magical missiles, angled on a wide, curving vector so that all would hit the dark elf behind the tree. Jarlaxle hopped back, figuring an attack from one direction safer to deal with than five. The missiles converged on the position where the drow had been, then sped off in pursuit, now approaching straight toward the unconcerned mercenary. The projectiles curved at the last instant, and were absorbed by a jeweled brooch on the mercenary's hat.
While this was happening, Entreri seized the opportunity to rush at the elf. Snapping of a one-two stab combination with the Charon's Claw and his dagger, he was surprised, though not completely amazed, when the elf brought his staff to bear amazingly quick to parry the attacks. So fast and fluid was the motion, that for a moment, the staff appeared to be a solid, blurred circle.
Quick to realign his weapons, Entreri then began his standard combat routine; one equally able to attack or defend as the moment demands. They traded blows for several minutes, neither able to find a substantial advantage. Charon's Claw and the dagger stabbed out, one for the chest, the other for the hamstring. The elf reacted by twirling the staff to cleanly deflect the sword, then he halted the staff's momentum all together and jerked the staff down, deflecting the dagger away as well, leaving Entreri's defenses wide open.
The elf then countered by snapping a left swipe, aiming the blunt end at the assassin's temple. Entreri was forced to snap a kick to intercept the attack, the boot sole connecting solidly with the hard end.
Even as that attack was neutralized, the elf used the reversed momentum to quicken an identical slash with the opposite end of the staff. By then, the assassin had his blades properly aligned though, and the dagger crosspiece fully blocked the blade's path. Before Entreri could press an attack for this advantage, the elf snapped his staff away, ending the clench.
Both fell back then, with Entreri feeling quite exhilarated. For the first time in several years, Entreri found himself against an opponent as skilled in combat as himself. Wanting to savor the moment, Artemis decided introductions were in order. "Well met," he greeted the elf. "My name is Artemis Entreri, warrior. Tell me, what title do you answer to?"
The response came back in a low monotone, "Tel'tilar Rubyeyes." He then added, "Why do you ask, human?"
Artemis shrugged, "I simply wanted to know who I was sending to the Nine Hells."
Jarlaxle, again concealing himself after evading the magical attack, shook his head in continued disbelief at the assassin's continued bravado. Hoping the get the battle back to favorable terms, the mercenary then launched five daggers at Tel'tilar.
The dark elf then went in search of another hiding place.
While Jarlaxle was relocating, Tel'tilar spun around and quickly batted all five daggers from the air. Unfortunately for the elf, Entreri had also read the mercenary's attack and when the elf turned away, the assassin swiped with the Charon's Claw in a viscous cross. The elf again showed his incredible awareness though, for when the last dagger was knocked aside, the elf ducked the slash. It was impossible to remain completely unharmed through that routine, though Tel'tilar had managed to turn a fatal strike into a shallow gash on his right shoulder.
So surprised was Entreri, that he made no move when Tel'tilar hopped back a step and uttered another rune. With the last note ringing in the air, the elf then slammed the butt end of the staff into the ground, producing an expanding ring of electricity. So fast was its advance that Entreri was barely able to focus his gauntlet in time to absorb the magic. Jarlaxle found himself without an immediate aid to the approaching onslaught. He hadn't the time to call upon his counter relic, so he simply leaped up in the air. Just before for he reached the peak of the jump, the drow then called upon his innate ability to levitate. His momentum was barely enough to clear the lightning wave in time.
When he saw the wave hadn't harmed Entreri, Tel'tilar brought the staff parallel with his body's stance, one end toward the ground, the other right in front of his face. Entreri and Jarlaxle were just barely able to hear him mutter "Tiamat". The name meant little to Entreri; the elf was simply calling to his weapon, activating other magical properties imbued in that formidable staff. To Jarlaxle however, the name meant a great deal. Under different circumstances, Jarlaxle could be an intelligent scholar. "Tiamat the Many-Mawed" was the one of most powerful gods in the Draconian Pantheon. For a weapon to be so named or even to have such a triggering rune, the effect must be potent indeed. For, what but a dragon would imbue a weapon in the name of a dragon god?
While Entreri didn't know the details, he also came to the conclusion that this new trick would give the elf a huge advantage. Prominent flames were beginning to appear on the gold-trimmed shaft of the staff. Though the flames did not seem to harm the elf in the least, Entreri didn't doubt for an instant that those flames would surely harm him. Hoping to seize the advantage before Tel'tilar, the assassin whipped his blades in a precise flurry, sword and dagger alternatively darting and stabbing, slashing and whirling. Though the elf made no move to parry of counter, he darted and twirled his body in an amazing display of agility to escape mortal harm. To the amazed Entreri, it seemed that Tel'tilar had improved his agility and quickness beyond the point of rational. For all his incredible skill, the assassin found no amount of ease in keeping up with the evasive movements.
By the time Artemis's momentum had played itself out, Charon's Claw had done little more than nick the elf's chest, right cheek and outer-left thigh, and the dagger had done less damage than that. Tel'tilar stood straight then, allowing Entreri to view all the wounds, including the previous gash on the shoulder, rapidly healing over. Entreri groaned and nearly dropped his weapons in exasperation. On top of all the abilities that gods-bedamned staff had shown, it apparently provided the means to regenerate battle wounds.
Behind the no-so-secretive concealment of some bushes, Jarlaxle groaned with the human. Ever the pragmatist, Jarlaxle seriously considered fleeing as fast as his slender legs could carry him. But when he examined that idea further, the mercenary found that he had no desire to leave his obstinate human companion at this elf's tender mercies. However, he seriously didn't know how he might aid his friend. The elf had already shown that he could handle flying daggers, and Jarlaxle figured that another projectile, magical or no, would be a similar waste. Jarlaxle also couldn't simply charge out and fight beside his companion either, for his preferred style of attack required a lot of space for his grandiose swipes. Jarlaxle had a number of magical enchantments to make nearly any battle heavily favored to his liking, but the most prominent of these offered little help.
The Slow effect could not be targeted precise enough for only one person to be affected, so both Entreri and Tel'tilar would find their motions requiring much more time for completion. Tel'tilar was already faster that Entreri, so he would still hold the speed advantage after being effected. Jarlaxle could hasten Entreri to the elf's level of speed, but the elf would still be able to regenerate and use whatever other tricks Tiamat still possessed.
The only other spell that readily came to mind was the Strength spell. The enchantment would augment the assassins strength, and slightly improve his speed as a side effect, though the human would be dangerously unfamiliar with his movement limitations. With a resigned shrug, the drow decided that was the best of the choices, for Entreri couldn't continue to the fight for the time needed for mercenary to check whatever other spells he might have. Jarlaxle then reached into a deep pocket for the correct orb.
While Jarlaxle was taking his sweet time in deciding what he should do, Artemis found himself in dire straits, indeed. Even though his movements were now almost exclusively defensive, Entreri still found all his skill and concentration needed to keep ahead of that flame-enshrouded blade. After several heartbeats of his hair being shaved, shirt trimmed, and his left sleeve being shortened considerably, Entreri launched a tentative slash with his sword, more for diversion than anything else. To his amazement, the sword whipped out with more force than the lithe man could have mustered with both hands on the hilt.
His balance forfeit by the unexpected swing, Entreri completely lost his fighting stance, and the fine edge of Charon's Claw, coupled with the enhanced strength, sliced right through the thick trunk of Jarlaxle's protective oak. It was fortunate for the assassin that the oak had been there, for with the green wall of the canopy rushing down at him, Tel'tilar was more concerned scrabbling away than finishing off the still off-balanced assassin.
It took Entreri a few breaths to recover from the shock that he had lost his balance on a simple cross-swipe, and the shock that the solid oak was no longer perpendicular to the horizon. The combat was again joined, with Entreri taking even more caution.
A sudden inspiration struck the assassin as profoundly as that staff ever could: his gauntlet still held the absorbed energy wave from before. Not wasting any time, Entreri commanded the gauntlet to release the enchantment. A wave of blazing energy surrounded the assassin and then expanded.
Tel'tilar simply couldn't be surprised. The elf did not even blink at this sudden twist. Instead, he slammed the blunt end straight into the ground, but instead of saying a rune, he used the staff as a pole-vault to enhance his leap. Having cleared the wave, Tel'tilar briefly twirled the staff around, falling straight down with a viscous overhead chop. Artemis hadn't counted on the wave to finish the elf however, he simply needed a diversion. Using his strengthened legs, Entreri had leapt clear across the clearing as soon as the elf had diverted his attention.
Artemis began a flurry of basic swipes, desperate to find his equilibrium. In a few breaths, Artemis had become a bit more comfortable, but he found that the brief respite was over. His face set determinately, Tel'tilar sped towards the human with his staff ready to finish the stubborn human.
In a circular motion, Tiamat slapped Charon's Claw down and to the side, with the butt end fast flying for the opening. His dagger flashing, Entreri wiped the blade to his other side to compensate, the crosspiece again locking with the staff. Refusing to let the elf take the offensive again, Entreri made a feint of swinging a cross swipe with the sword. The elf easily dodged aside from the half-hearted swipe, but was unable to react against the real attack.
At the same time he swung his sword, Entreri kicked out at Tel'tilar's knee joint. The sheer force of the kick not only broke the joint, but forced it back upon itself. Though the bone would soon heal, the immediate pain nearly sent the elf swooning. He barely managed to utter another rune before Entreri's dagger sliced toward his throat. The dagger's edge found nothing to bite save air.
Entreri frantically swept his gaze over the clearing, searching for temporarily immobile elf. His gaze settled on Jarlaxle, who had emerged from the underbrush holding the scrying ring. Muttering once or twice, the mercenary snapped his head to look at some tree tops to the right. Entreri's gaze followed immediately, but he couldn't make anything out in the thick boughs.
Jarlaxle threw a couple daggers and launched a lightning bolt to give the elf something to ponder, then concentrated his innate powers toward the assassin. Creating simple spheres of darkness is an easy tasks for all drow, but reshaping them requires a bit more time and concentration. The mercenary placed the sphere just above Entreri, though the human had no idea as to the reason why. Jarlaxle then willed the sphere to thin and flatten, making a sheet of impenetrable shadow. He then folded the sides down to connect with the soil, forming a dome around the suddenly blinded assassin.
Just before Entreri could rush out and have a few choice words with Jarlaxle, Jarlaxle formed a gap in the dome, right in front of the human. Though some light was able to come in the dark dome, the gloom was more than enough for Entreri to let his vision to view the infrared spectrum of heat. Infravision is how the subterranean races of toril are able to view their world without torches. It allows them to see the minute heat patterns of their environment, but only without the stinging presence of light. Entreri, being a human, was not born with this ability to see the world in two ways, but Infravision was given to him by a drow priestess.
Now able to view heat and not light reflections, Entreri was easily able to spot the elf's heat from the cool leaves of the tree, though a few branches glowed from the lightning. Unfortunately, Infravision has the side effect of making a viewer's eyes glow red, thus Entreri's red eyes in the shadow dome were as obvious to the elf as the elf's heat signature was to Entreri. Fending of the daggers had required little effort, even without his mobility, and the tree had taken the brunt of the lightning bolt, but they had still diverted Tel'tilar's attention. By the time he was able to turn back to the human, he found a lightless dome filling most of the clearing, with a pair of "ruby" eyes glaring at him.
The knee bone was now mostly corrected, though movement was still painful, and Tel'tilar dropped from his perch to battle the pair. Not having knowledge of the drow's gift to Entreri, the elf thought that Jarlaxle had entered the dome and he figured that it was drow eyes staring at him, since humans don't possess Infravision. For the first time in the battle, Tel'tilar was caught by surprise, for the heated silhouette was that of a human, not a drow.
Artemis had seen the elf coming, and had long since decided on his tactics for this style of fighting: dirty. As soon as Tel'tilar's eyes reveled him using Infravision, Entreri called upon his blade to produce its black light. Charon's Claw was imbued with the ability to produce a light dark enough not to alert creatures viewing the Infrared spectrum. This light also served to completely mask the heat signature of the wielder, rendering him invisible to Infravision. To the elf's second complete astonishment of the day, Entreri vanished.
Tel'tilar knew the human hadn't teleported, or activated any other magic; he would have felt the magic forces. Thus he concluded that the human had simply slipped outside the dome. Not wanting to play into whatever plot the cunning human had devised, he closed his eyes and willed them back into the normal spectrum of viewing light hues, and had Tiamat dispel the surrounding darkness. Or started to, anyway.
Alerted by the unnatural perception granted by his staff, Tel'tilar interrupted his rune and whirled around. Entreri had circled around the bewildered elf, and charged with his blades toward the elven backside. Not hampered in the least by foolish notions of conscience and honor, the assassin never hesitated in snapping off a one-two-three combination with both his blades. The first struck Tel'tilar across his chest, the second in the throat, and the third leaving an ash-infested gut wound. All three would have normally be fatal, but Entreri had no idea the extent of the regenerative capabilities the elf possessed, so he struck once more, a stab right through the forehead.

After calling for Jarlaxle to dispel his darkness, Entreri paused beside the fast-cooling corpse, watching the heat emissions turn from red to blue. Considering himself satisfied with this challenge, the dark man didn't look back.
"Ware!"
Jarlaxle's cry of alarm snapped Entreri from his ponderings and swiftly brought the assassin turning around, dropping in a defensive position to gaze back toward the elven corpse. Or where it had been, at least. The glade was empty, save for Entreri, who had not even had time to cross under the opposite bank of trees.
That trice-damned elf had survived all that and had apparently activated the teleport sigil. Jarlaxle quickly summoned his favorite ring of the day, hoping to scry the location of the troll-kin before he could "gift" them with anymore wonderfully lethal surprises. However, Jarlaxle never found the need to waste anymore precious magic this day, for the elf hadn't gone far. In fact, he had transported…right…above.
Tel'tilar landed with hardly a rustle, vengeance clearly burning an insane fire in his eyes and mind. As soon as he landed, he swung his staff high, using an end to attack each enemy. The flaming blade screamed toward Jarlaxle, striking the drow's blocking forearm with the flat of the blade, despite the displacement cape the mercenary wore. Tel'tilar wanted to finish that particular nuisance in single combat, later. The magical impact launched the slender drow straight into a tree, rendering him senseless.
Meanwhile, the blunt end cracked into Entreri's jaw with enough force to snap his head around to the very limits of his neck's ability. Extremely thankful for Jarlaxle's enhancement, Entreri realized that without it, he would probably still be facing forward, though his head would have turned a complete cycle once or twice. Artemis could hardly spend any amount of time on that thought, however. While the blow hadn't broken his neck, the preternatural swiftness of the strike, coupled with the magical flame, was enough to cause the assassin's vision to blur, with sweet oblivion chiming invitingly in the back of his thoughts.
He almost gave in. Artemis Entreri almost surrendered to unconsciousness, despite the closing threat. Suddenly his will came back to him, and Artemis halted his fall toward the void and pushed viciously against it, coming back to awareness in time to align his defenses over his vital areas… but the elf wasn't aiming for a mortal wound.
Circling around the mentally struggling assassin, delivering a slight gash across Entreri's shoulder blades with the blade. The burning wound was at least tenfold more painful than the strike to the jaw, and Entreri knew that the elf was toying with him, for the assassin couldn't have offered any resistance from that angle. Artemis was unable to contain his yell of pain.
The pain was worse, but Entreri had been more on his guard than before and was better able to ignore it. Entreri focused to the point that the pain no longer existed, its presence simply vanishing. He steadied himself, wearily eying Tel'tilar.
His patience for this exercise gone, Tel'tilar sped to the left of the human, Tiamat's blade poised across Entreri's vision, a hair's breadth from the orbs. Artemis didn't have time to offer any token of defense.
"And you with shed tears of scarlet."
Entreri heard the words and realized that the elf considered the game to be at its end. His blades down at his sides, Artemis had no practical way to dodge or parry the final blow. And the elf knew it.
Responding with more vehemence than all three (for Jarlaxle had recovered his awareness in time to view the blade poise hungrily before Entreri's eyes) had considered the human capable of possessing, Entreri fell back, swinging Charon's blade up blindingly fast in a desperate parry. Though the sword was barely able to graze Tiamat before it could blind Artemis, his strength was enough to send the staff out wide.
The sword was held in Entreri's left hand, while his right held the dagger. The elf was on Entreri's left side, not far from his dagger, and the dagger possessed an attribute that might actually affect Tel'tilar for more than five damn breaths! Needless to say, Entreri didn't waste time on deciding a second plan was not needed.
Reversing his grip on his trademark dagger, Entreri swiftly buried it into the elf's side, then activated its most potent ability: draining life. No matter where or how deep the dagger is plunged in a victim, Entreri can use it to transfer the victim's life force into his own. To revitalize himself, in a sense. The process is mind-numbingly painful. How fast and how painful is decided by Entreri. In this instance, Entreri decided to get as much as he could for this short contact. Very painful, indeed.
As the Elf twirled away from Entreri's reach, the assassin purposely lost his grip on the weapon, allowing it to spin away with the elf. Artemis then kicked off a convenient rock behind him, launching him at the elf faster than any haste spell ever could.
Grasping Charon's Claw in both hands, Entreri went against every fighting instinct he had developed for his quick and deceptive style of fighting. The attack would not rely on speed and agility so much as it would use the magical strength coursing in his veins.
As Tel'tilar managed to pluck the painful thorn from his side and drop it to the ground, he saw the assassin fly toward him, much too fast for him to be able to dodge. Desperate, Tel'tilar locked his staff in front of him, praying to block the blow.
With a mighty overhead chop that delivered every ounce of strength he possessed, enchanted sword met imbued staff once again. So hard was the hit, Tel'tilar was the one now flying, with Entreri halted over his discarded dagger. In one fluid motion, Entreri retrieved the dagger, threw it, then launched himself in pursuit. Again, in the span of three heartbeats, dagger blade bit into elven flank.
Though neither shaft nor limb had broken in that awesome collision, both sang their agony, one in sound, the other in pain. So numbed in fact, Tel'tilar found he couldn't make them respond fast enough to deflect the oncoming dagger. Then, suddenly, Entreri appeared right before him!
Entreri used his momentum to deflect Tiamat's tip into the soil, then firmly planted his boot on it, though the flame surely burned him wickedly. At the same time as Entreri again grasped the dagger's hilt and resumed the life force transfer to keep the elf in place, he reversed his grip on Charon's blade. Crossing that hand over his body, Entreri poised the edge parallel to the elven orbs.
"Now who will shed those tears?" He whispered in a monotone, though the elf was too wracked with pain to notice. Swiftly, Entreri finished the cross, causing the bloody tears to erupt.
Suddenly, a fireball dropped from the sky, exploding all over the elf, though Entreri was sparred the conflagration by his gauntlet. Entreri turned an incredulous expression toward the mercenary, who was rubbing a fast forming knot on his skull.
"Let's make sure this time, hmm?"
In wholehearted agreement with this, Artemis promptly loosed the magical flames stored in the gauntlet. He grimly watched until the corpse was turned to ash, which quickly scattered on the winds.
"Ah, look. Some "colleagues" would wish for some reward for their moral support," Jarlaxle remarked, noting the threatening band ahead of the pair on the trail a few days away from the glade.
"Just kill the fools and let us be rid of them," Artemis replied wearily.
The drow's smirking visage never let Entreri's as a new clearing was suddenly created by another fireball.