Chapter 64: Immortalised

"Oh no," Harrian murmured, looking as if he was about to faint instantly. "Oh no, no, no, no, no." He let out a quiet whimper. "Somebody tell me this is a bad dream. Just a figment of my imagination. Please."

Imoen snickered evilly. "Oh, it's real, alright," she assured him confidently. "Though I don't know what you're complaining about. I think you look rather fetching in marble. At least the statue can't talk."

The party of eight stood in front of the main fountain of Trademeet, most of them gaping disbelievingly at the larger-than-life statues that adorned the rim. Eight of them, all in dramatic poses and looking very much the part of 'Heroes of Trademeet', as the plaque declared them. It was a worrying contrast to the eight weary, worn and befuddled adventurers whom the statues had been based on.

"Verily, it is quite a fine representation," Anomen declared, grinning broadly as he examined his own statue. "I think we should be more flattered than anything else! No matter what else we do in the future, we have been immortalised here."

Despite his own reservations, Harrian grinned broadly at the squire's glee. "Liking the idea of being called 'Hero of Trademeet', Anomen?" he asked lightly, raising an eyebrow. "The novelty wears off eventually, I assure you."

"Indeed, o hero of Nashkel, Gullykin, Baldur's Gate and, now, Trademeet," Imoen declared solemnly, giving Harrian a mock-bow. She turned to Anomen, who had frozen at her statement. "We got… a little busy up north. Fortunately, Trademeet isn't going to throw a banquet in our honour where they'll try to marry off their prettiest girls to as many of the heroes as possible, like Nashkel did." She winked at Corias. "And if they do, I hope you've become more eloquent in turning them down."

Harrian blushed bright pink. "What can I say? I was a lout high on fame and the glory of adventuring. I didn't want to settle down with some trollop and grow bloody potatoes." He squirmed under the appraising eyes of Imoen and Jaheira. "I've learnt the value of diplomacy, too," he mumbled unhappily.

Yoshimo turned to Anomen, frowning slightly. "Do you have any idea just what they're talking of?" the bounty hunter asked, shaking his head with confusion and a slight amount of amusement.

"No," Delryn responded in the same tone of voice. "But it does seem that, if we want to remain unmarried and not offend the people we've just saved, we should flee this town before Trademeet decides to honour us any more."

"I do not see the problem, my raven," Haer'Dalis interjected. "We are heroes, we should act suitably heroically. As we have been immortalised, I believe we should stay a short while and bask in our fame."

"Believe me, bard, I've basked plenty in that fame, and it never ends well. Get yourself acknowledged as the hero of a town, not only will you have every available young woman of a suitable age throwing themselves at you – which does have a certain appeal, I am aware – you will also be set upon by every person in this town who has even the slightest problem. The hero of a town will regularly be asked to rescue cats stuck in trees."

Anomen's expression had drooped considerably. "But won't we get immortalised in legend?" he asked, worried, in the tone of a young child who had just been told that Christmas had been cancelled.

Harrian chuckled. "Oh, yes. But you're not going to like it. In a hundred years, I'll be ten foot tall, breathing fire and have probably been raised off in the woods somewhere… be the son of a nice god too, I'd imagine. I'd have slaughtered thousands of evil destroyers of the land to save Trademeet, and would be celebrated for hundreds of years."

Delryn grinned. "But that's all pretty good, is it not?" he asked, his expression lighting up again.

It pained Corias to have to put a damper on his mood. Well, that was a lie; it was quite amusing to see the squire get his ideals kicked, in a perverse sort of way. "If the statues don't stay up, the legends will almost certainly have me acting alone. Oh, and there'll be a torrid romance between myself and a young yet spirited girl of the village, who I'll have had to rescue at some point during my adventures."

Anomen considered this for a long moment, then shook his head, looking disgusted. "Let us return to Athkatla," he muttered sulkily. "A city generally forgets its heroes considerably less easily."

"We're not heroes of Athkatla, Ano," Imoen pointed out, grinning at his expression when she called him 'Ano'.

"Then let's make ourselves heroes!" Delryn suggested firmly. "Anything is better than being stuck in a provincial little hole like this which will claim I don't exist in a hundred years or so." He glared at Harrian. "If we have to go around rescuing villages, I say we develop a rotational system of who's leader, so we all get a chance to be immortalised." He sighed, shaking his head, and muttered: "I knew it was a bad idea to just be a sidekick."

Harrian nodded, smiling at the cleric. "Alright… let's blow this joint." Everyone stared at him for a long moment, confusion registered on their faces. He squirmed briefly, then shrugged. "Or we could just leave?"

But before they could start for the pub to collect their affairs and for Keldorn to collect his horse, a tall woman in fine robes, clearly those of a noble, stepped outside the door of her house and swept towards them self-importantly, flanked by a pair of fully-armed guards.

"You there! Hero of Trademeet! Hold!" she called out in a commanding voice that made Harrian freeze and grimace, before pasting a bright smile on his face and turning around to face her. "I would have words with you!"

Corias's false grin faded a little, but he managed to keep it on his face as strongly as possible. "Ah, you would be the Lady Lurraxol, correct? We met at Lord Coprith's house. You wish to talk to me?"

"I do indeed," Lady Lilith Lurraxol stated smugly, approaching them. "I have a matter of the utmost importance which I need handled by someone of your infinite skills and wisdom… and I suppose your companions could help as well."

Harrian ignored Anomen's outraged snort, and forced his smile to broaden. It was starting to strain his cheek muscles. "We really were planning to return to Athkatla, my lady, but I will hear what you want me to do…"

Lurraxol smiled brightly. "Ah, I can make your staying here a few more days perfectly worthwhile. And it is a simple matter." She folded her arms across her chest. "Recently, the matter of who is the founding house of Trademeet has oddly become something worth debating – as if there was any doubt that it was not a Lurraxol who founded this town. Lord Skarmaen Alibakkar has started to challenge my claim."

Harrian looked blankly at her, not really caring of her plight. "What can I do? Kill this man?" he asked emotionlessly, although he was entertaining thoughts of doing this Alibakkar a favour and getting rid of Lurraxol there and then.

The lady frowned distastefully. "Uh, no, nothing as horrific as that. Just legend says there is an artefact in the graveyard of Trademeet, the Mantle of Waukeen. If you were to retrieve that for me, then it would prove the claim of my family."

Harrian opened his mouth to tell her to go to the hells as a second imperious voice could be heard from over his shoulder, and he turned to see a tall, grey-haired man striding towards them, also flanked by two guards.

"Lurraxol, you bitch!" Skarmaen Alibakkar snapped, approaching the group. "You would seek to manipulate the hero of Trademeet into supporting your lie of a claim? That is scandalous!" He bowed briefly to Harrian. "My apologies, Mr Corias, that you have been mistreated by this 'lady'. I am sure you can –"

"Let me guess," Harrian murmured, frowning. "You'd like me to return this Mantle of Waukeen for you so that your claim can be proven?" Alibakkar froze, and he knew he'd hit the nail on the head.

Corias rolled his eyes, before shaking his head. "No. No way. Not a chance in the hells. All nine of them." He fixed Lurraxol and Alibakkar with cold glares. "I came here to save lives, and then ensured that the people of Trademeet would have a livelihood with which to support themselves. I did not come here to help nobs like you decide which of you can steal an artefact first, thus proving not which is the founding family, merely which is the sneakiest bastard."

He straightened up haughtily. "As far as I'm concerned, you can all go and kill yourselves. I no longer give a damn about this town, unless they happen to be trouble, and thus, as hero, it is my duty to come and help them. But in the meantime, I intend to return to Athkatla and commence the hunt for a very, very dangerous mage. Good day to you."

With that, he turned and strode off haughtily, six of his seven companions following him in a second. Anomen lingered behind a moment, looking between the two aristocrats. "If I helped you, would you immortalise me in the history books?" he asked lightly, hopefully.

"Anomen! Get thy arse over here!" the voice of Harrian echoed across the square, and the cleric threw the nobles an apologetic shrug before hurrying after the rest of his party. They were going to go home