Hey there, sorry it's been so long, guys. Anyway, here's a couple of
chapters to make up for the wait. Don't get used to it! *grin* As always,
criticism and useful suggestions are always welcome . . . blatantly obvious
statements such as 'it your story, do what you want with it' (you know who
you are) are not so helpful, but if you want to leave them, it's your time!
Anywho, thanks for waiting and enjoy!
*~*~*
Part The Sixth
The inn was busy, that was quite obvious, and yet there was a sparseness to the clientele that suggested to the perceptive bard that something was amiss in the welcoming atmosphere the place tried to convey. For one thing, there were noblemen scattered about among those who actually lived and worked here in the Slums, and nowhere did those of the so-called aristocracy mix willingly with those inferior in class.
Their outlandish appearance was apparently no surprise to the people within. Some turned to look them over as they passed, but paid them no mind beyond a quick inspection. One amorous elf tried to make advances towards both Duran and Jaheira, but was quickly brushed off with threats of violence from both women. After speaking with the barkeep, the bard ascertained that she had not enough money to board them all, and insisted that Jaheira and Minsc take the beds they could afford.
'But where will you sleep?' Minsc asked her. 'Boo will worry for you, my friend.'
Duran smiled at this mention of her friend's pet, reaching up to stroke the furry head peeking from Minsc's jerkin.
'I'll be fine,' she assured them. 'I'm not that tired, anyway.'
Jaheira gave her a hard stare, knowing this statement to be a lie. The young half-elf looked fit to drop, but seemed determined that her companions should rest. She had not met the druid's eyes since their argument in the street, though Jaheira knew that what she had spoken had been the truth.
In truth, the bard's words had struck deeper than she would ever have intended them to. The elven druid knew that she was not coping at all well with her loss, and she knew the lengths Duran had gone to, to prevent Minsc and Imoen from irritating their friend too much. She could not forget that it had been Duran who had weathered the storm of her violent grief to hold her when the pain became too much.
Jaheira sighed softly, careful to keep the regretful sound inaudible. She should not have taken her anger out on the contact, this Gaelan person who had annoyed them both so dramatically. Duran could take care of herself, perhaps better than Jaheira gave her credit for. In so many ways, the druid still looked on her as the frightened child she had encountered in the Friendly Arm so long ago. And despite all this, she was not prepared to swallow her pride and apologise for her appalling behaviour.
Duran saw her friends up the stairs, still not catching Jaheira's eye, paying the barkeep for the two beds they were to keep. With a weary stretch, she sat at one of the tables, lost in her own reflections.
'Father . . .'
As ever, her thoughts turned to the man who had shaped her, made her who she was. Everything she had ever done since his untimely death had been in memory of her foster-father, Gorion, and even now, the pain of that horrific parting haunted her daily.
'What would you have me do now, father?' she whispered, her eyes fixed on the rough table-top. 'Where do I go from here? I have lost my way . . . Imoen is gone, Jaheira hates me for interfering in her grief. I'm not sure Minsc even understands what's going on. I have a chance to regain my friend, but what a price I must pay! And who knows what other costs may be involved in gaining that sum?'
A single drop of moisture rolled down her cheek, and Duran found herself obeying the old habits she had acquired in the days after Gorion's death. Swallowing, she forced herself to think of how crying would solve anything, and slowly the wish to vent her feelings disappeared, smoothing away into her most secret thoughts. Her fingers found a loose splinter, and she began to pick at it, more to keep her head from drooping than anything.
Perhaps she should leave. Would that help? To leave her friends alone here, with what little money she had left, and to go and find her friend alone? Somehow, despite the bad blood that ran between them at present, Duran could not fathom setting out alone. Even if they no longer needed her, she needed them, and would remain with them regardless. In desperation, her thoughts turned to the one other person who she thought might have understood her plight, now dead by her hand.
'What would you have done, Sarevok?' she muttered, careful to keep the name inaudible. Even in Amn, his treachery was known. 'Oh, I know you would have killed Jaheira for being insolent, and Minsc for just being Minsc. You probably wouldn't have let them out of the prison. And you'd be more interested in finding Irenicus for the power he could give you than you would to regain Imoen. But then, you never understood the bond between us, did you? You never knew what it was to be loved, and love in return.'
Once again, the memory of that terrible night flew through her mind. The night she had found, and lost, the only person she could call family. Sarevok, the bane of the Sword Coast, who had died on her blade rather than renounce his ways and join her. It had been the last time she had cried, for a man who hated her so much, he had tried to end her existence. For her brother.
A gentle hand on her shoulder made her jump, and she looked up into the barkeep's worried eyes.
'Are you alright there, miss?' he asked softly.
Forcing a smile for him, Duran nodded, wondering why he had chosen to interrupt her thoughts. It wasn't as if she had any more money to barter with. His smile widened slightly, and he produced a fistful of coins from his pouch.
'One of our regulars has bought you a bed with your companions, miss, and a meal when you wake,' he told her.
Duran felt her spirits lift suddenly. So there was some point to going on, if complete strangers would take pity on her. She was not too proud to accept charity, even from a stranger, and gladly took the offered bed, laying a hand on the rotund man's arm.
'Who paid for this?'
He grinned suddenly, his face lighting up in a mischievous way.
'He said not to tell you, but he's standing by the fireside,' he murmured.
Careful not to turn and look immediately, Duran picked up her staff and made her way to the stairs. As she mounted the steps, her eyes strayed, seemingly absently, to the fireside, where a tall figure stood half- concealed in shadow. She could feel his eyes on her, not hostile but almost protective, and found herself wondering what kind of man gives out charity to an outlander in the middle of the poorest district of the city. His act had lightened her heart, though, and she was determined to do something about the rift in her group before letting the sun go down on her.
Slipping though the semi-darkness of the communal sleeping room, her sharp eyes soon pin-pointed the whereabouts of Minsc and Jaheira, though you hardly needed eyes with a snore like the ranger's to follow. Quickly removing her armour and placing it by the bed, she knelt beside Jaheira's sleeping form, reaching out to grasp the druid's hand gently. There was no sound, no movement to say that she had awoken, but Duran knew her friend too well to suppose she hadn't.
She leant forwards until her lips almost touched Jaheira's ear, and whispered,
'I'm sorry.'
Again, there was no sign that Jaheira had heard, but Duran knew. She withdrew from her friend, almost collapsing into the bed, asleep within moments of curling up within the covers.
*
They rose with the dawn the next morning, a force of habit from being so long on the road, and dressed quickly. As they walked down to the tap-room once again, Jaheira stopped Duran on the landing. She looked decidedly uncomfortable.
'What is it, Aunty J?'
Jaheira gave her a Look, smiling reluctantly when Duran found it impossible to keep her smile at bay. The druid swiftly embraced her, holding her close for a few moments then releasing her just as swiftly. She nodded curtly to her young companion, and moved to follow Minsc down the stairs. Duran watched her for a few moments, a grin spreading across her face as she realised that her friend had just apologised to her. She ran down to join them, sufficiently surprised by the sight of breakfast when it arrived for them.
'Is this from our secret benefactor as well?' she asked the barkeep.
He returned her smile.
'Yes, miss,' he grinned. 'Right taken with you, he is, too.'
As he bustled off, Jaheira and Minsc both demanded to know what was going on, and Duran filled them in, telling them about her good fortune in catching the eye of the man who had paid for all this.
'I don't understand why he would choose to bestow money on me, though, when so many others here need it,' she murmured.
Minsc grinned, and the two women only just managed to put their drinks down before his hands clamped down on their shoulders.
'He is a man of honour and goodness,' the ranger declared. 'Boo and Minsc would be happy to meet him!'
'I'm sure you would be,' Duran assured her friend, carefully diverting his attention by refilling his cup.
Suddenly a voice behind her spoke up, rich in tones, and evidently nervous to her trained ear.
'Fair lady, what brings you to this cesspool of corruption?'
The bard turned to find a young man in full armour standing behind them, his eyes fixed on her. Seeing his apprehension at his silent response, she smiled, biting down on a laugh when he seemed to relax under her smile, his face becoming almost boyish for a moment before he collected himself.
This must be our beneficiary, she thought, her eyes taking in the details of his form and dress. He was obviously a fighter, perhaps he would join them if she approached it from the right direction. Glancing over him once more, Duran decided what it was he would want to hear.
'I seek adventure and honor,' she told him simply, watching as he drew himself up to his full height, no doubt to impress them.
'Chance smiles upon you, for I am an adventurer of some worth,' he announced to them, and she noted a slight hesitation before he continued, as if he knew how conceited he sounded. For some reason, that slight hesitation was endearing to her.
'I am Anomen, warrior priest of Torm,' he told her, his voice almost eager now. 'What is your name?'
She needed no more encouragement to answer his request, finding something in this awkward, arrogant young man to like, despite his proud words.
'I am Duran,' she said, her smile widening as his eyes did. 'It is a pleasure to meet you.'
He bowed to her, and she could see his confusion and surprise at her name. Surely the tales hadn't reached the ears of those in Amn? From his reaction, it would appear that they had, and once again her petite form was throwing doubt on the actions that she had supposedly committed. How galling for a man who obviously wished for glory to meet a tiny woman who had it, and didn't want it!
However, he quickly overcame this minor setback, allowing a self- deprecating smile to curve his lips. Unable to stop herself, Duran found herself reflecting on how much more handsome he was when he smiled.
'Perchance I have found worthy companions,' were his next words, and Duran snorted into her cup, trying to hide the laughter that welled up within her.
Worthy companions? An elven druid with a bad temper, a Rasheman ranger who's had one too many knocks to the head, and a half-elven Bhaalspawn? There was no way such a party could be considered worthy of anything, except perhaps one another's company. Jaheira kicked her under the table, sending her a warning look from beneath lowered lashes.
Recovering herself, her gaze returned to Anomen, who seemed blissfully unaware of her intense amusement as he continued speaking.
'I seek to be knighted in the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart, and I must prove my worth first. Have you need of a strong sword, my lady?'
Duran glanced at her companions, her lips twitching slightly as she suppressed the last vestiges of her sudden amusement. Minsc shared a look with his hamster, Boo, and nodded, grinning at the young priest beside them with obvious approval. Jaheira, on the other hand, looked unsure, leaving the decision up to Duran.
They each saw him in a different light, yet both left the decision up to their friend. Minsc saw only the bravery, and the wish to prove himself that fairly shone from Anomen's countenance, openly approving of such attributes. Jaheira saw a child trapped within a man's body, one that would have to grow swiftly should he join them, and would perhaps need help to cope with his sudden maturity and the sights he would see. But she trusted Duran's judgement.
The young half-elf gazed at Anomen, seeing past the arrogant words, and shining armour. She was a bard, and had been trained to read people. What she saw was an insecure young man trying to prove himself to the only people whose opinion he cared about. Of course, the fact that he was more than average looking didn't escape her notice either. Tall, broad- shouldered, with thick brown hair and soft brown eyes, he was quite easily the most handsome man she had ever seen. She nodded to herself.
'I would be infinitely pleased to have you join me,' she said cheerily, gesturing to the seat beside her. 'Welcome!'
Anomen slipped into the chair, his grin one of relief and excitement.
'Excellent! Adventure and honour await us both!'
Duran smiled at his unconscious repetition of her previous words. Her smile died as she realised she couldn't let him commit himself to her without first explaining the truth of what she was doing in Athkatla.
'I should tell you first, perhaps, that I seek to rescue an old friend who is being held hostage by the Cowled Wizards. There may be significant risk.'
Anomen looked interested, grateful that she had chosen to include him in her plans already.
'Truly?' he said. 'It sounds a worthy cause to pursue. But who is this friend that you speak of?'
Duran turned away from him, her eyes fixed on the table as old memories, good and bad, flooded her mind.
'An old friend . . . Imoen,' she murmured. 'We grew up together at Candlekeep, and I'm not about to abandon her to these wizards.'
Anomen nodded, understanding the emotion behind her words. He would do the same were his beloved sister Moira stolen away by the Cowled ones.
'Ah, the rescue of a childhood companion! Come then, my new friend!'
He rose, seeing that they had finished their meal, and were preparing to go.
'Let us strive to find this Imoen of yours, and challenge all the dangers that bar our way!'
Duran laughed into her cup at his enthusiastic tone, rising with him, and moving towards the main doors. Anomen followed her, feeling as though he had begun something vastly important.
They walked out into the streets, their new companion at their side. Anomen seemed very excited, striving to contain himself as they walked at a sedate pace through the muddy alleyways. Jaheira slipped to Duran's side.
'Any ideas about our destination?' she asked.
Duran smiled.
'I was thinking of checking out that playhouse Gaelan told us about, if I can find it, and then scouting about for some work,' she mused. 'Is that alright with you?'
The three nodded. Anomen pressed forward.
'Might I ask where this playhouse is, my lady?'
Duran frowned, dredging through her memory for the location that had been repeated to her the day before.
'Do you know, I can't remember,' she said, her tone one of wonder, since she never normally forgot anything. 'Aunty J?'
Jaheira scowled at the use of her nickname, but dutifully ran through the previous day's conversations to no avail. With a sinking heart, Duran looked hopefully at Minsc. The Rasheman consulted with Boo for a moment, startling Anomen, who leapt sideways at the sight of a rodent peeking from his companion's jerkin.
'Boo says he does not know, Duran,' Minsc said softly, disappointed that his friend couldn't help. 'But Minsc remembers the boy saying something about a bridge?'
A grin spread across Duran's face like the sun rising over the city.
'The Bridge District!' she exclaimed, embracing her large friend warmly before turning to Anomen. 'Could you show us the way to the Five Flagons, sir knight?'
He smiled, obviously glad to be of some use.
'Of course, my lady, though I am not worthy of the title you give me,' he added, taking his place by her side as Jaheira retreated to Minsc's company. 'I will not be worthy of the title of 'sir knight' until I am knighted in the Order.'
Surprised by this serious reaction to her playful address, Duran found herself listening intently as Anomen explained the ways of the city to them, guiding the trio through the streets of his home city towards the beginning of another adventure.
*~*~*
Part The Sixth
The inn was busy, that was quite obvious, and yet there was a sparseness to the clientele that suggested to the perceptive bard that something was amiss in the welcoming atmosphere the place tried to convey. For one thing, there were noblemen scattered about among those who actually lived and worked here in the Slums, and nowhere did those of the so-called aristocracy mix willingly with those inferior in class.
Their outlandish appearance was apparently no surprise to the people within. Some turned to look them over as they passed, but paid them no mind beyond a quick inspection. One amorous elf tried to make advances towards both Duran and Jaheira, but was quickly brushed off with threats of violence from both women. After speaking with the barkeep, the bard ascertained that she had not enough money to board them all, and insisted that Jaheira and Minsc take the beds they could afford.
'But where will you sleep?' Minsc asked her. 'Boo will worry for you, my friend.'
Duran smiled at this mention of her friend's pet, reaching up to stroke the furry head peeking from Minsc's jerkin.
'I'll be fine,' she assured them. 'I'm not that tired, anyway.'
Jaheira gave her a hard stare, knowing this statement to be a lie. The young half-elf looked fit to drop, but seemed determined that her companions should rest. She had not met the druid's eyes since their argument in the street, though Jaheira knew that what she had spoken had been the truth.
In truth, the bard's words had struck deeper than she would ever have intended them to. The elven druid knew that she was not coping at all well with her loss, and she knew the lengths Duran had gone to, to prevent Minsc and Imoen from irritating their friend too much. She could not forget that it had been Duran who had weathered the storm of her violent grief to hold her when the pain became too much.
Jaheira sighed softly, careful to keep the regretful sound inaudible. She should not have taken her anger out on the contact, this Gaelan person who had annoyed them both so dramatically. Duran could take care of herself, perhaps better than Jaheira gave her credit for. In so many ways, the druid still looked on her as the frightened child she had encountered in the Friendly Arm so long ago. And despite all this, she was not prepared to swallow her pride and apologise for her appalling behaviour.
Duran saw her friends up the stairs, still not catching Jaheira's eye, paying the barkeep for the two beds they were to keep. With a weary stretch, she sat at one of the tables, lost in her own reflections.
'Father . . .'
As ever, her thoughts turned to the man who had shaped her, made her who she was. Everything she had ever done since his untimely death had been in memory of her foster-father, Gorion, and even now, the pain of that horrific parting haunted her daily.
'What would you have me do now, father?' she whispered, her eyes fixed on the rough table-top. 'Where do I go from here? I have lost my way . . . Imoen is gone, Jaheira hates me for interfering in her grief. I'm not sure Minsc even understands what's going on. I have a chance to regain my friend, but what a price I must pay! And who knows what other costs may be involved in gaining that sum?'
A single drop of moisture rolled down her cheek, and Duran found herself obeying the old habits she had acquired in the days after Gorion's death. Swallowing, she forced herself to think of how crying would solve anything, and slowly the wish to vent her feelings disappeared, smoothing away into her most secret thoughts. Her fingers found a loose splinter, and she began to pick at it, more to keep her head from drooping than anything.
Perhaps she should leave. Would that help? To leave her friends alone here, with what little money she had left, and to go and find her friend alone? Somehow, despite the bad blood that ran between them at present, Duran could not fathom setting out alone. Even if they no longer needed her, she needed them, and would remain with them regardless. In desperation, her thoughts turned to the one other person who she thought might have understood her plight, now dead by her hand.
'What would you have done, Sarevok?' she muttered, careful to keep the name inaudible. Even in Amn, his treachery was known. 'Oh, I know you would have killed Jaheira for being insolent, and Minsc for just being Minsc. You probably wouldn't have let them out of the prison. And you'd be more interested in finding Irenicus for the power he could give you than you would to regain Imoen. But then, you never understood the bond between us, did you? You never knew what it was to be loved, and love in return.'
Once again, the memory of that terrible night flew through her mind. The night she had found, and lost, the only person she could call family. Sarevok, the bane of the Sword Coast, who had died on her blade rather than renounce his ways and join her. It had been the last time she had cried, for a man who hated her so much, he had tried to end her existence. For her brother.
A gentle hand on her shoulder made her jump, and she looked up into the barkeep's worried eyes.
'Are you alright there, miss?' he asked softly.
Forcing a smile for him, Duran nodded, wondering why he had chosen to interrupt her thoughts. It wasn't as if she had any more money to barter with. His smile widened slightly, and he produced a fistful of coins from his pouch.
'One of our regulars has bought you a bed with your companions, miss, and a meal when you wake,' he told her.
Duran felt her spirits lift suddenly. So there was some point to going on, if complete strangers would take pity on her. She was not too proud to accept charity, even from a stranger, and gladly took the offered bed, laying a hand on the rotund man's arm.
'Who paid for this?'
He grinned suddenly, his face lighting up in a mischievous way.
'He said not to tell you, but he's standing by the fireside,' he murmured.
Careful not to turn and look immediately, Duran picked up her staff and made her way to the stairs. As she mounted the steps, her eyes strayed, seemingly absently, to the fireside, where a tall figure stood half- concealed in shadow. She could feel his eyes on her, not hostile but almost protective, and found herself wondering what kind of man gives out charity to an outlander in the middle of the poorest district of the city. His act had lightened her heart, though, and she was determined to do something about the rift in her group before letting the sun go down on her.
Slipping though the semi-darkness of the communal sleeping room, her sharp eyes soon pin-pointed the whereabouts of Minsc and Jaheira, though you hardly needed eyes with a snore like the ranger's to follow. Quickly removing her armour and placing it by the bed, she knelt beside Jaheira's sleeping form, reaching out to grasp the druid's hand gently. There was no sound, no movement to say that she had awoken, but Duran knew her friend too well to suppose she hadn't.
She leant forwards until her lips almost touched Jaheira's ear, and whispered,
'I'm sorry.'
Again, there was no sign that Jaheira had heard, but Duran knew. She withdrew from her friend, almost collapsing into the bed, asleep within moments of curling up within the covers.
*
They rose with the dawn the next morning, a force of habit from being so long on the road, and dressed quickly. As they walked down to the tap-room once again, Jaheira stopped Duran on the landing. She looked decidedly uncomfortable.
'What is it, Aunty J?'
Jaheira gave her a Look, smiling reluctantly when Duran found it impossible to keep her smile at bay. The druid swiftly embraced her, holding her close for a few moments then releasing her just as swiftly. She nodded curtly to her young companion, and moved to follow Minsc down the stairs. Duran watched her for a few moments, a grin spreading across her face as she realised that her friend had just apologised to her. She ran down to join them, sufficiently surprised by the sight of breakfast when it arrived for them.
'Is this from our secret benefactor as well?' she asked the barkeep.
He returned her smile.
'Yes, miss,' he grinned. 'Right taken with you, he is, too.'
As he bustled off, Jaheira and Minsc both demanded to know what was going on, and Duran filled them in, telling them about her good fortune in catching the eye of the man who had paid for all this.
'I don't understand why he would choose to bestow money on me, though, when so many others here need it,' she murmured.
Minsc grinned, and the two women only just managed to put their drinks down before his hands clamped down on their shoulders.
'He is a man of honour and goodness,' the ranger declared. 'Boo and Minsc would be happy to meet him!'
'I'm sure you would be,' Duran assured her friend, carefully diverting his attention by refilling his cup.
Suddenly a voice behind her spoke up, rich in tones, and evidently nervous to her trained ear.
'Fair lady, what brings you to this cesspool of corruption?'
The bard turned to find a young man in full armour standing behind them, his eyes fixed on her. Seeing his apprehension at his silent response, she smiled, biting down on a laugh when he seemed to relax under her smile, his face becoming almost boyish for a moment before he collected himself.
This must be our beneficiary, she thought, her eyes taking in the details of his form and dress. He was obviously a fighter, perhaps he would join them if she approached it from the right direction. Glancing over him once more, Duran decided what it was he would want to hear.
'I seek adventure and honor,' she told him simply, watching as he drew himself up to his full height, no doubt to impress them.
'Chance smiles upon you, for I am an adventurer of some worth,' he announced to them, and she noted a slight hesitation before he continued, as if he knew how conceited he sounded. For some reason, that slight hesitation was endearing to her.
'I am Anomen, warrior priest of Torm,' he told her, his voice almost eager now. 'What is your name?'
She needed no more encouragement to answer his request, finding something in this awkward, arrogant young man to like, despite his proud words.
'I am Duran,' she said, her smile widening as his eyes did. 'It is a pleasure to meet you.'
He bowed to her, and she could see his confusion and surprise at her name. Surely the tales hadn't reached the ears of those in Amn? From his reaction, it would appear that they had, and once again her petite form was throwing doubt on the actions that she had supposedly committed. How galling for a man who obviously wished for glory to meet a tiny woman who had it, and didn't want it!
However, he quickly overcame this minor setback, allowing a self- deprecating smile to curve his lips. Unable to stop herself, Duran found herself reflecting on how much more handsome he was when he smiled.
'Perchance I have found worthy companions,' were his next words, and Duran snorted into her cup, trying to hide the laughter that welled up within her.
Worthy companions? An elven druid with a bad temper, a Rasheman ranger who's had one too many knocks to the head, and a half-elven Bhaalspawn? There was no way such a party could be considered worthy of anything, except perhaps one another's company. Jaheira kicked her under the table, sending her a warning look from beneath lowered lashes.
Recovering herself, her gaze returned to Anomen, who seemed blissfully unaware of her intense amusement as he continued speaking.
'I seek to be knighted in the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart, and I must prove my worth first. Have you need of a strong sword, my lady?'
Duran glanced at her companions, her lips twitching slightly as she suppressed the last vestiges of her sudden amusement. Minsc shared a look with his hamster, Boo, and nodded, grinning at the young priest beside them with obvious approval. Jaheira, on the other hand, looked unsure, leaving the decision up to Duran.
They each saw him in a different light, yet both left the decision up to their friend. Minsc saw only the bravery, and the wish to prove himself that fairly shone from Anomen's countenance, openly approving of such attributes. Jaheira saw a child trapped within a man's body, one that would have to grow swiftly should he join them, and would perhaps need help to cope with his sudden maturity and the sights he would see. But she trusted Duran's judgement.
The young half-elf gazed at Anomen, seeing past the arrogant words, and shining armour. She was a bard, and had been trained to read people. What she saw was an insecure young man trying to prove himself to the only people whose opinion he cared about. Of course, the fact that he was more than average looking didn't escape her notice either. Tall, broad- shouldered, with thick brown hair and soft brown eyes, he was quite easily the most handsome man she had ever seen. She nodded to herself.
'I would be infinitely pleased to have you join me,' she said cheerily, gesturing to the seat beside her. 'Welcome!'
Anomen slipped into the chair, his grin one of relief and excitement.
'Excellent! Adventure and honour await us both!'
Duran smiled at his unconscious repetition of her previous words. Her smile died as she realised she couldn't let him commit himself to her without first explaining the truth of what she was doing in Athkatla.
'I should tell you first, perhaps, that I seek to rescue an old friend who is being held hostage by the Cowled Wizards. There may be significant risk.'
Anomen looked interested, grateful that she had chosen to include him in her plans already.
'Truly?' he said. 'It sounds a worthy cause to pursue. But who is this friend that you speak of?'
Duran turned away from him, her eyes fixed on the table as old memories, good and bad, flooded her mind.
'An old friend . . . Imoen,' she murmured. 'We grew up together at Candlekeep, and I'm not about to abandon her to these wizards.'
Anomen nodded, understanding the emotion behind her words. He would do the same were his beloved sister Moira stolen away by the Cowled ones.
'Ah, the rescue of a childhood companion! Come then, my new friend!'
He rose, seeing that they had finished their meal, and were preparing to go.
'Let us strive to find this Imoen of yours, and challenge all the dangers that bar our way!'
Duran laughed into her cup at his enthusiastic tone, rising with him, and moving towards the main doors. Anomen followed her, feeling as though he had begun something vastly important.
They walked out into the streets, their new companion at their side. Anomen seemed very excited, striving to contain himself as they walked at a sedate pace through the muddy alleyways. Jaheira slipped to Duran's side.
'Any ideas about our destination?' she asked.
Duran smiled.
'I was thinking of checking out that playhouse Gaelan told us about, if I can find it, and then scouting about for some work,' she mused. 'Is that alright with you?'
The three nodded. Anomen pressed forward.
'Might I ask where this playhouse is, my lady?'
Duran frowned, dredging through her memory for the location that had been repeated to her the day before.
'Do you know, I can't remember,' she said, her tone one of wonder, since she never normally forgot anything. 'Aunty J?'
Jaheira scowled at the use of her nickname, but dutifully ran through the previous day's conversations to no avail. With a sinking heart, Duran looked hopefully at Minsc. The Rasheman consulted with Boo for a moment, startling Anomen, who leapt sideways at the sight of a rodent peeking from his companion's jerkin.
'Boo says he does not know, Duran,' Minsc said softly, disappointed that his friend couldn't help. 'But Minsc remembers the boy saying something about a bridge?'
A grin spread across Duran's face like the sun rising over the city.
'The Bridge District!' she exclaimed, embracing her large friend warmly before turning to Anomen. 'Could you show us the way to the Five Flagons, sir knight?'
He smiled, obviously glad to be of some use.
'Of course, my lady, though I am not worthy of the title you give me,' he added, taking his place by her side as Jaheira retreated to Minsc's company. 'I will not be worthy of the title of 'sir knight' until I am knighted in the Order.'
Surprised by this serious reaction to her playful address, Duran found herself listening intently as Anomen explained the ways of the city to them, guiding the trio through the streets of his home city towards the beginning of another adventure.
