(Author's Note: Several things to point out. For one thing, when I started writing this fic, I was not through playing BG, SOA, but I figured that, since the story was solid, any readers would forgive me my inaccuracies to the plot. I assumed that Irenicus would be destroyed in the end, and I was right. Not long ago, I actually finished the game, and started TOB. Now I know that, although I guessed right concerning Irenicus, I missed the boat on several details and happenings in the later story. I decided to keep writing, because, as I said before, the story is solid and I want to finish it. I appologise for any inaccuracies committed during the earlier chapters, and inaccuracies which I may perforce commit in the following chapters in order to make the story work. Just ignore anything that happens in TOB. Also, you may find the previous chapters difficult to read, because I usually divide scenes up using a row of asterisks (sp?) but for some reason, when I convert the file from mac format to Word Perfect (so that I can send it in to it simply erases the asterisks. I have fixed the problem now. Another simple request: PLEASE REVIEW! Those of you who write fanfictions yourself I'm sure know how satisfying it is just to hear from someone who read your work, whether they liked it or not. I would really love it if you could just write one or two sentences telling me what you think. Many thanks to Dominique Sotto for that reason, by the way.)

Umar hills was a pleasant town a tad underpopulated, but Discord heartily enjoyed the calm, constant atmosphere of the village. She sometimes speculated about living in a place such as this after her adventuring days were over. The peace was attractive to her, but she knew herself well enough that she wouldn't be able to stay for long. She was too much of a wanderer, and the day-to-day rural life would not satisfy her. Still, the prospect was interesting and made for entertaining thoughts and fantasies.

They arrived just as the sun began to sink behind the horizon, painting the sky with vivid streaks of red and orange. Tired, but glad to have reached their destination, the troupe cast a satisfied glance over the landscape.

"What now?" Imoen asked, stretching her back in such a way as to twist herself into a very bizarre position.

"I don't know about you guys, but I am ready to collapse where I stand," Discord sighed wearily. "Lets just go get a meal at the inn and take a load off for a while. Then we can plan our next move. Its too late to take any decisive action anyway." Shouldering her favorite axe, Frostreaver, Discord led the others in a slow, steady trudge towards the tavern.

The inn was fairly well packed, full of tired farmers taking a glass of stout to reward themselves for a hard day's work. After much searching, the group managed to find a table large enough and with enough chairs for all of them. Throwing down thier burdens in a haphhazard pile, the group relaxed into the chairs with a sigh of relief. They ordered a heavy meal and leaned against the table, talking in low voices.

"If this Redblade person is in Umar Hills," Haer'Dalis pointed out, "then we should be careful, my Raven, not to alert him to our presence."

"Agreed, Sparrow, but how are we to get closer to our prey if we cannot come out of the shadows?" demanded Discord. "Any one of these people could be him."

"True enough," Anomen admitted thoughtfully. He cast an eye about the room. "and we need information."

The bustling bar room was a little too close and crowded for Discord's liking, but she busied herself with a mug of ale and soon forgot her discomfort. She felt the itch for a pipe, but had no safe leaf; besides, she was wary of smoking after her harrowing experience last time. She regretted this, as it was always a calming and enjoyable habit of hers, no matter what the others might think.

She cast an eye about her surroundings, doubtful of how to proceed. If they stayed in town too long, they ran a risk of this Redblade person seeing them and high-tailing it. If that happened, Discord didn't know what they would do. He could be anywhere in Amn, if he was not here. At the same time, she knew, it would be tricky to gather information in a small town like this without alerting him to their wherabouts. Word got around in a place like this, and if she went around unsubtly asking questions frankly, rumors would spread and tales would go from one villager to the next concerning the mysterious armed stranger questioning about old Redblade. Word would get back to him and he would be out of town quicker than they could track him down. They needed to find someone they could trust.

Imoen's job was clear without it being described to her. As the thief of the party, her duty was to constantly be watching; watching for a trap, a chest, or a suspicious person. In this case, she kept an eye out for anyone acting strangely, anyone who looked nervous at the sight of an adventuring party. As her narrowed eyes checked the room, they fell upon a familiar face. A gnome, half bald and unkempt, was talking earnestly with a young man at a table on the other side of the bar. Imoen hid her grinning face, and excused herself from the table, creeping silently through the throng of people.

"... and let me tell you, ten gold pieces for a turnip recipe like this is a steal, my friend! Auntie Bilcher, may she rest in peace, invented this turnip souffle one evening in order to have a classy meal prepared to impress some upstart human types who were coming round to dinner. Now, Auntie didn't like humans much, but she had invited them over as a result of a duel she had had with one of their dogs. Long story-"

"And we all know how much you hate long stories, eh Jan?" Imoen's impish giggle broke into the gnome's long winded droning. Jan spun around, and his face crinkled in awide smile to see the young lass.

"My, but Imoen, it has been a long time!" Jan cried joyfully.

"Heya!" Imoen chirped.

"Are you here alone, lass? Or is that grouchy blue woman with you?"

"Um, Discord? Yeah, she's sitting right over there," Imoen grinned, pointing at her sister, whose face was obscured by the carved oaken goblet of ale, from which she quaffed from with great zeal.

"Well, little 'Moen, I'd love to join you in a minute and catch up on old times, but I am in the middle of a fairly important transaction."

"Sure. I don't think this gentleman is interested in your turnip souffle, Jan," Imoen grinned, leaning her elbows impudently on the table top. "Come on, the others will want to see you!"

"The others?" Jan peered back at the congregated travbellers, still oblivious to Imoen's brief disappearance. His face broke into a wicked smile. "Ano..."

"We're all too tired to continue work today," Discord was saying. "Can we think about this in the morning?" Her head was sinking heavily into her hands and her eyelids were drooping. (Although, truth be told, her drowsiness was as much a result of the drink as the journey.)

"Aye, my Lady," Anomen sighed. He seemed to be doing the best after their hard day's travel, and he looked a little exasperated at Discord's seeming disinterest. "But I will press the matter on the morrow."

"Indeed, Sir Ano, you have a hard time keeping that abnormally large nose to yourself," said a gleeful voice. Anomen closed his eyes very calmly. His face went very blank. The only sign of life in him was the deep gouges he was scraping into the tabletop with his nails.

"Gnome," he stated quietly.

"Hello Jan!" Discord, not seeming to notice, clapped Jan unsteadyingly on the back, causing the little man to sway for a moment and correct his balance.

"Cordy!" he chirped joyfully. "It has been a long time. Almost... six months now, isn't it?"

"Something like that," Discord grinned, motioning the tiny gnome to take a seat at their table. He did so, dragging a heavy chair with some obvious difficulty over to their polished table, and climbing onto it, kneeling in his chair so that he could be at a comfortable level in relation to the table. He was sitting right next to Anomen, who was sitting stiffly, bolt upright, and gripping his mug so hard his knuckles were white.

"Well whats a rugged adventurer such as yourself doing in a placid little country town like this?" Discord asked jovially. "You're not on some quest or other, are you?"

"Ah, my friend, how little you know about me!" Jan scolded her, a cheeky grin on his wrinkled face. "You of all people should know, Discord, that I am first a turnip salesman, second an adventurer. And I ask you, of all the places you have travelled, can you name another site so perfect for the cultivation and sale of that noblest of vegetables, the turnip?"

"I can't say that I can, Jan, but I don't pretend to know nearly so much about the vegetables as you yourself," Discord said obligingly.

"Well, let me tell you, this place is the shangri-la of root veggie farming. The soil is rich, land is plentiful, and the people here posess the refined and sophisticated tastes necessary to appreciate the flavor of the noble turnip. Business has never been better!"

"Glad to hear it, Jan." Imoen arrived back at the table with another round for everyone, including their gnomish guest. Anomen downed his ale with surprising rapidity, gritting his teeth at the sound of the gnome's voice. "I wondered why Turnip Beer was on the list of drinks at the bar. Now I know." Imoen added, grinning.

"A fine brew, to be sure, but I have far higher hopes for some finer turnip drinks - turnip brandy, or possibly turnip liqueur. Naturally these new developments will take some work and experimentation, but I think they will be both refreshing and potent."

"Just don't poison yourself," Imoen advised.

Discord laughed, and took a draught from her non-turnip beer. She liked Jan, but she remembered finding travelling with him trying at best. She had been a little relieved when circumstances had forced thier parting, and she wasn't the only one. Anomen in particular had despised the cheeky little man, who enjoyed sniping at the proud, slightly pompous knight simply to hear him flare up in quickly kindled anger. Discord sympathised with her lover, but at the same time found these little dialogues to be far too funny to intervene. It was a ridiculous concept, really, this tall, muscle built knight being bullied and taunted by this wizened little gnome. Haer'Dalis and Minsc, she noticed, also found Jan a little grating, but they held thier tongues for the sake of manners. Imoen adored him.

Discord snapped out of her thoughts as she realized that Jan was still talking to his old companions. "...And that was when I remembered that I had stashed away a salad fork in my pack for just this kind of situation! Thank heavens I remembered to plan ahead. So I drew it out just in time and- well, the rest is history."

"I had begun to think I could live the rest of my life without listening to another one of those stories," Anomen muttered sullenly to Discord, who gave a lopsided grin.

"I heard that, Ano," Jan said wickedly. "And I wholeheartedly agree with you. Why just after we parted company, my first thought was 'thank the gods that I never have to be in the presence of that over-pious, self-important, arrogant, drivelling monkey again! And yet, here we are. Fate, I guess."

"Listen, you half-pint, dirty little vegetable merchant, I-" Anomen's angry retort was cut off by Discord's imploring tone. The last thing she wanted was for the two of them to start bickering, just when they had been getting along so well.

"Anomen..." she began, but was cut off.

"I am curious, good sir Anomen, how is it you manage to puff your chest out so far when your head is so large and weighty? I should think it would throw you off balance-"

"Jan..." Discord tried again.

"Cut it out, you two, you are drawing attention to us," Aerie pleaded.

"And Discord said we need to keep hidden, so the smuggler-man doesn't slip away like a greased hamster!" Minsc added, in an eggagerated stage whisper.

"Smuggler?" Jan turned to Discord. "So you're here on adventuring business, then? I almost forgot to ask you what you were doing here."

"You were too busy making up stories about yourself, gnome," Anomen spat vindictively. Jan whipped around, and tried to look furious, which was difficult on a three foot turnip salesman.

"For your information, knightling-"

"Oh, shut up you two," Discord snapped. She glanced nervously around the bar, many of the inhabitants of which were watching their discourse with some interest. As if word wasn't going to travel quickly enough. The fact that they were strangers alone made them a curiosity in this little village, but the longer they stayed, the more people would talk, and the more likely word of their arrival would reach the ears of Redblade. Not to mention that they were a strange enough sight as is; Discord, blue-skinned and armed, her raggedly shorn white hair completing her bizarre portrait; Haer'Dalis, a tiefling, which these people would probably never even have heard of, let alone be able to recognize; Minsc, the towering ranger standing tall and above all who stood near him, his bald head crowned with a purple tattoo and talking to a small hamster... Discord stifled laughter at just the thought of how they must look to these people. Keeping a low profile would be tricky.

"Yeah, Jan, we're here on business," she explained, casting a wary eye about the bar room. "We're looking for someone..."

The group then went into a hushed and long winded explaination of thier endeavors thus far.

"And so we came here to seek out the smuggler. We have to tread carefully, as this smuggler is doubtless skilled in subtlety and deception, and if he sees us we may never find him. That's why we can't simply ask around for information - word would get back to him, you see?"

"What's the fellow's name?" asked the old gnome. "Perhaps I can help you."

Discord nodded. "That's what I was thinking. I believe I can trust you, Jan. His name is Dareth Redblade."

Jan's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Old Dareth? You're kidding me! Well, that explains his apparent dislike for turnips... the Shadow Thieves I dealt with in Athkatla seemed to absolutely abhor the noble vegetable. Brutish lot, no refinery whatsoever. I should have known. I remember one time, when I approached him with my wares-"

"Jan!" Imoen interrupted him. "You know this Redblade person?"

"Why sure!" Jan said. "He's a regular at the tavern... actually, I think he's here now. Right over..." Jan swung around in his seat, searching for Dareth's face in the throng of bar patrons.

CRASH! A nearby table was shoved over, and the drinks and candles clattered to the floor, splashing beer and hot wax all over the floor and nearby patrons. In the chaos that ensued, Jan was distracted and stopped mid sentence. Imoen, however, whose business it was to see things, noticed a silent-footed man slip out the back door in the commotion.

"'Cord! This way, he's escaping!" Whoever it was must have been listening in, and tipped over the table rather than being identified by Jan. He obviously had enough skill and experience to know to create and take advantage of the diversion. That was thier man, Imoen would bet on it.

Trusting her sister's judgement, Discord followed her lead, with Anomen, Minsc, Aerie and Haer'Dalis following soon after. Short-legged Jan followed, but lagged behind. They tore after their prey, Imoen leading and the others striving to keep pace. They were fast, but the stranger was faster.

o-o-o-o-o-o-

yeah, I know that was a lame chapter. I'll give you something meatier when my schedule calms down a little.