Chapter 45: Away From it All

That evening, at Harrian's decree, they put everything on hold. Worries about Anomen's sister's murder, about the Shadow Thieves, about Bodhi, about the Cowled Wizards, about the Order, and about Irenicus were swept under the carpet for the time-being whilst the party enjoyed some hard-earned downtime.

Thunderburp had been assured that this was the last fiasco for a while, and the bartender had, surprisingly enough, accepted that explanation. The jovial halfling had offered drinks on the house all evening, and those of Harrian's party that actually drank alcohol were making the most of it.

It was a rare night, for it was a night where they all could, and did, step out of their troubles and make the most of the now instead of worrying about the future. All concerns were to be ignored for one night.

Well, almost all. Considering the positioning of the table some of them were seated at and the dartboard Harrian had commandeered, Anomen had to have more faith in his friends than he was comfortable with. Faith that he didn't end up with a dart in his eye.

Helm knew how they'd convinced Jaheira to join in the game, and whilst the combined efforts of Harrian and Imoen were beating her and Yoshimo, it was a close thing. Delryn had been quick to wriggle out of being paired with Haer'Dalis for a game, mostly because he knew his aim would be astronomically bad in comparison to the three thieves and a dextrous druid.

Minsc had similarly backed out due to Boo's assurance that he would break the dartboard, a suggestion Anomen agreed with utterly. Haer'Dalis had been quite confused, for it seemed that no variant on darts existed in the Outer Planes, and thus had also declined.

So it was just the cleric and the tiefling who were seated at the table, the former trying to resist the urge to duck every time Harrian threw a dart, taking much glee from the squire's discomfort. Minsc was off on a search for another round of drinks, and considering how much alcohol they'd gone through, it looked as if the teetotal Jaheira would have a big advantage in the game very soon.

Alcohol didn't seem to affect Haer'Dalis very much, and Anomen never drank very much, so the two of them were quite sober as they sat in silence, watching the darts game with a mixture of trepidation and amusement. The main focus of their attention was the same: Imoen.

There was no doubt that she had gone through some horrific moments at the hands of Irenicus, and that her time at Spellhold had hardly been therapeutic for those moments, but that did not seem to make too much of a dent in her light, happy-go-lucky spirit that seemed to raise everyone's moods and make the darkness seem… that much less terrifying.

Like Harrian, Jaheira, and – to a lesser extent – Minsc, she was recovering from the suffering at the hands of Irenicus. And whilst there was still the pain in her eyes, residual traces of what she had seen and what she had gone through, there was still a clear and bright chance for her to carry on.

This actually gave Anomen a smidgeon of hope. Although he was going to devalue his own loss, he knew that what he had suffered was little in comparison to that of Harrian and the others. The fact that they were surviving and carrying on told him that he, too, could recover from his troubles and carry on.

Haer'Dalis gave the cleric a quick sideways look, reading more in him than Delryn would have ever wished. "Squire Anomen, you seem deep in thought," he mused lightly. "It is clear you have been considering the latest addition to our ranks quite profoundly. Have you, perhaps, reached any conclusions?"

Anomen's brow furrowed. "My conclusions are my own, bard," he retorted automatically. The moment the words were out of his mouth, however, he softened a little. "But she is something of an item of… interest, is she not?"

The blade nodded, looking thoughtful. "Odd, however. You are the closest thing to a paragon of justice we have in this party, and this Imoen is both thief and mage, doubly a criminal in Athkatla."

Delryn snorted. "Haer'Dalis, I am in a group lead by a thief which has, since its formation, stolen from the Cowled Wizards and one of the local nobility before striking a highly illegal deal to free someone from a prison. I think the addition of another thief, or a mage, whichever profession of hers you decide to focus on, is a minor issue."

The tiefling smiled broadly. "Very good, my hound. Mayhaps there is a chance for you in the Prime Material Plane after all. I had thought you devoid of any chance to solidify your own path in this world without being constricted by the tenets of this rigid Order you hold in such high regard."

Anomen sighed. There Haer'Dalis was hitting the crux of another matter which bothered him so. Since joining Harrian's company, he had all but abandoned the Order. Sir Keldorn was watching Harrian, and the moment the thief stepped out of line (though how Keldorn had decided that two counts of theft was not out of line, Anomen would never know), he would be condemned. And, most likely, Delryn would go down with him.

A month ago, if confronted with this situation, the Watcher would have chosen to turn and leave Harrian's company. He did not know why he stayed, but he felt compelled to, even if it meant defying the Order.

"However, you deflected the question quite well," Haer'Dalis continued, pressing a little more than was normal for him. "Your thoughts on this Imoen?"

Anomen looked quizzically at the tiefling, wondering what underlying motive the bard might have to be so inquisitive as to his opinion, and received nothing but an open and honest expression. This worried him. The bard had an unknown agenda that did not bode well with the cleric, but he really had little choice but to humour him for the moment. "She seems a bright enough girl," he commented, shrugging a non-committal shrug. "Her presence will, no doubt, raise our leader's spirits. Which I think he needs, as our next quest will doubtless be a search for this Irenicus."

"You think so, do you?" Haer'Dalis mused. "That sounds most logical a conclusion. I have to say I agree… Harrian is unlikely to allow this Irenicus to get away without answering the questions our raven most certainly has. And she… she is fascinating…"

The bard's voice trailed off, and before Anomen could ask him to elaborate on 'fascinating', the object of his attention was headed in their direction. Minsc had arrived with drinks, and Imoen had given him her darts, insisting she take her placed in the game. Within a few seconds, Harrian was using all of his might to try and pry the darts out of the board, but that was not Imoen's concern.

The pink-haired mage practically bounced into the seat opposite bard and cleric. "Enough of darts for now," she said by way of greeting, taking a gulp of the cordial Minsc had brought her. "I know next to nothing of you two boys. Tell me about yourselves," she commanded, the smile on her face so bright and infectious that Anomen felt himself returning it, not to mention compelled to comply.

He raised an eyebrow at her, seeing just how much Imoen could have a beneficial effect on morale in the party. "How much do you already know?" he asked lightly, taking a tentative sip of his own drink.

"Only that you, Anomen Delryn, are a squire of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart, a priest of Helm, and…" Imoen's voice trailed off, and her brow knitted a little. Her tone had been slightly mocking, but so light and frivolous that Anomen felt incapable of taking offence at it. Despite the fact that she had stopped talking, the unspoken words were clear: …and your sister's recently been murdered.

Instead of saying that, she turned to Haer'Dalis. "…and you are a bard, a tiefling from the Outer Planes." Imoen laid her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. "Now, Candlekeep may have been a library fortress, but there weren't many books on the Planes. What're they like?"

Anomen felt slightly miffed that Imoen had decided to divert all of her attention towards Haer'Dalis, but then conceded that the tiefling was, most veritably, the more unique of the two of them. He studied Imoen quietly as the bard started to describe the planes in terms that flew over his head most quickly.

The pink hair was an oddity. Delryn assumed it was from a dye, but why someone would wish to dye their hair pink was an unfathomable thought. It was probably from a spell gone wrong, or the like.

And that quick smile of hers, the one that lit up her face and all but hid the pain held in her eyes. It was infectious and soothing, and seemed to suggest that any trouble or pain was only temporary. Anomen felt himself wanting to see that smile a lot more, as much for how much it made him feel better as it hid her worries.

A voice interrupted his reverie as Harrian slid into the seat next to him. "Game's over," he declared, a slight frown on his face but with the hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. At their querying looks, he shrugged. "Minsc broke the board."

The giant ranged pulled a chair up, looking a little mortified. "Harrian told me to imagine the board was the backside of evil that needed kicking. Now we cannot remove the dart," he confessed. He looked a little baffled at the bright laughter that greeted his statement, but joined in readily enough, and soon all seven of them were chuckling at even the slightest little thing.

Yes, Anomen thought. This is a chance to get away from everything, and although it won't last, we should make the most of it. For tomorrow, shadows will return and frivolous matters will be less likely to make us laugh.