Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian and a few other originals however are my creation.

Knock. Knock.

Silence.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Annoyed silence.

"Entreri, sulking is not attractive."

The assassin turned to the door, only to make sure the lock was in place. "I'm not sulking."

"Then what are you doing?"

Entreri slipped out the window and murmured, "I'm hiding."

Jarlaxle pressed his ear against the door and suppressed a chuckle as he heard the telltale signs of an escape.

"Is he coming out?" Maskah asked in a hopeful tone, fidgeting with a scrap of fabric.

"Not anytime soon," Jarlaxle replied with an amused lilt in his voice. "He'll come around. We just need to give him time."

Kaifas ran a worried hand through his hair. "But Master Jarian needs to do the final adjustments for his outfit!"

"Your hair!" Shytolin 'tsked' dramatically and proceeded to tidy the frazzled tangle of locks.

Jarlaxle sighed and ushered them to their room with outstretched arms. "You three have enough to worry about. Content yourselves with stage preparations and all will be well. You shall see."

Maskah watched their captain leave and stage-fell into Kaifas' arms. "Oh the drama! Whatever shall we do!"

Kaifas used one hand to steady Maskah and used the other to place the back of his palm against his forehead, "oh tragedy!"

Shytolin stared, eyebrows furrowed in puzzled perplexion, "are we in trouble?"

"Were you distracted again, dear Shytolin?" Kaifas asked in sympathy, truly lamenting Shytolin's lack of comprehension.

Maskah leaned back against Kaifas, reaching out a hand to stroke Shytolin's cheek. "Would you like me to explain it to you?"

Shytolin nodded.

"The judges of the Fashion Display have decided to limit the competition for the Third Day, by sweetening the challenge. Master Jarian must find an additional model that is not of his race to model with us onstage. By doing this, the judges can see how innovative the tailors are by forcing them to make adjustments to their outfits in accordance to diversity. The lamentable issue in our case is that Artemis, a human, a person Master Jarian can tailor for, does not wish to model," Maskah explained.

Shytolin had since gathered his knees to his chest and stared with rapt attention. He tilted his head slightly as if still confused.

"You over explained," Kaifas whispered.

"I did?" Maskah drummed his fingers against Kaifas' thigh, eliciting a content murmur from his makeshift chair. "Hmm, well let's see, how can I put this simply? Ah yes, I know. If we want to model on the Third Day we need Artemis to join us onstage wearing an outfit that Master Jarian made for him."

"Oh! I get it!" Shytolin leapt to his feet. "Artemis is shy!"

Maskah facepalmed and sighed, while Kaifas just nodded and said soothingly, "yes, that's right Shytolin. Artemis is shy and we'll have to do our best to make him feel less shy once he's convinced to go onstage."

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Artemis Entreri traversed the roof of Costumer's Hall, nimbly twisting and turning his heels in concurrence with the various grooves.

A wisp of sweetened smoke met his nostrils and he drew his dagger toward the odor.

"Put that away, you have no need for it young man," a masculine voice chortled.

Entreri assessed the darkly clad stranger that melded with the shadows and sheathed his dagger. "I do not need the dagger out."

"That good are you?"

Entreri nodded and kneeled, resting lightly on his ankles.

"I thought so, especially with the way you handled the rooftops."

"You were watching me?"

"It was either you or the birds," the stranger laughed. "Regardless, if the heel of your boot was softer I would have imagined you navigating them at a quieter and swifter pace."

"Perhaps," Entreri said noncommittally.

"Who are you running from?"

Entreri absently put a hand to his dagger. "I run from no one."

"Ahh, then you are running from something."

A glare met the stranger's assessment. "I clear my head best when the body is in motion."

"Oh really?"

Another glare met the stranger and this time it critically assessed him. The man, a human, leaned against the wall, one foot pressed against it while the other stretched out before him. The scent of pipe leaf permeated the air as the stranger took the occasional, delicate puff of his smoking apparatus. "Affirmative. Stillness may open the mind, but physical activity sharpens it."

"Fascinating," the stranger replied, exhaling a curl of smoke. He appeared genuinely intrigued by the concept. Extending his pipe, "would you like some?"

Entreri raised a critical eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"It calms the nerves," the stranger said serenely, "and you know it's not poisonous if I'm partaking in the leaf. Relax, it looks like you need it." He slid down and crossed his legs, continuing the extension of his hand.

Entreri stared at him for a moment, before shifting back against the wall and accepting the pipe. What the hell…why not? A little serenity above despite the chaos below is a welcome thing. He slowly inhaled, holding his breath, and then exhaled, passing it back to the stranger. Somehow, on the rooftop, with the approaching sunset, the two men who had not exchanged names seemed like gargoyles reigning over all.

They continued like that for several minutes, passing the pipe betwixt them, silently taking in the surrounding sounds until the leaf smoldered into cinders.

"Don't you have someplace to be?"

"Yes," Entreri said slowly closing his eyes and opening them again. He stood to stretch, turning swiftly on his heel to traverse the roof once more.

The stranger gazed after Entreri and removed a ring on his finger. Long white hair tumbled from the dark cloak and ruby eyes glittered. "Oh Artemis…why can't we be like that more often?"

Raelos peeked his head through a dimensional curtain. "I can't believe your imitation of a human! That was brilliant!"

"Thank you," Jarian grinned, shedding the drab colored cloak with flair, "and now that my little plan is complete, I must spring into action to complete Artemis' outfit." He murmured an incantation, brushing fingers against a jeweled brooch at his neck, and transported his form at the final word into his mobile tailoring room.

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Entreri snuck back into the washroom and quietly unlatched the lock to enter the main room.

Jarlaxle reclined on a plush chair and savored the last drop of his mushroom wine. "There you are, I was wondering when you were going to come to your senses."

Glare.

The drow chuckled, "you took even longer in the washroom than Jarian and his servants combined! Now that's saying something."

"Is he in his room?

"If by 'he' you mean Jarian, then yes, he is in his room," Jarlaxle said, "the mobile one to be precise via his Inn's room."

Entreri curtly nodded and knocked on the tailor's door. He was pulled in halfway through his second knock.

"Master Jarian, the other model has arrived," Kaifas said, removing his hand from Entreri's wrist before it was severed.

"Welcome to the inner sanctum," Maskah said slyly, "we never thought we'd get you in here."

"Hello Artemis!" Shytolin waved merrily as Jarian fluttered about his very chiseled…and very naked form.

If not for the drow behind him blocking his route of escape, Entreri would have taken flight out the door. But since the lingering effects of the stranger's leaf softened his rationale, he was more prone to turn to logic. "Jarian, can you please explain to me why your models are wearing nothing?"

"You've never been behind the scenes of a Fashion Display have you?" Jarian walked over to fondly pat his shoulder. "You're so cute when you're modest!"

From the corner, Tazolg let loose an agreeing mouse-squeak.

"To answer your question, in order to ensure the closest possible fit and to make adjustments, I must get as close as possible to my model's skin," Jarian explained.

"I'm not taking off my clothes in front of you all," Entreri said, sniffing as he regarded Jarian.

Jarian looked disappointed, but not surprised. "I know that by now you silly human." He motioned to a privacy screen, "that's why you'll change back there."

"You don't need any measurements," Entreri inquired suspiciously.

"I know your measurements better than I know mine," Jarian said mysteriously. "Now go change, your outfit awaits, along with the stage. Once you've changed we'll discuss stage presentation." Jarian watched Entreri go behind the screen, taking great pleasure in the fact that he could at least see the assassin's shadowed silhouette. And what a fine silhouette it was…

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Jarlaxle made an art of reclining; he did it with such flair that unless you looked closely you would see that his relaxing was merely an illusion belying the ability to strike you down with a simple reach to any of his hidden weapons. Resting his feet on the balcony, one foot over the other, he surveyed the empty stage.

"A bold choice of representations your tailor made earlier," a voice said.

"Narfindal," the drow said simply and then turned to his right, "I was wondering what you would say about that."

The Gold Elf sat beside him, gripping the arms of the chair. "You hide the god and goddess' true natures with beauty. Beauty and terror-stricken awe."

"All deities hide their darker nature with beauty, just in different ways and some do not even bother, taking pleasure in the grotesque," Jarlaxle said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I care not for the ways of the gods. I am a mercenary, living in the moment. I lust for profit…" among other things.

Narfindal chuckled, "thus making you beloved and hated by them all. You truly blur the line between good and evil."

"I am that line," Jarlaxle said with glittering eyes as the stage lights dimmed and Alurra's voice reverberated in every corner of Costumer's Hall.

"Welcome once again to the second half of Day Two of the Waterdeep Fashion Display. Our tailors have been put to the test because of the judge's challenge and their final products will determine placement for the final day. Four models instead of the usual three will showcase practical outfits, with the additional model being of another race. Tension has mounted and the only release will be through…fashion!"

Wild cheers from the floor crowd echoed in the upper balconies, as the release of excitement appeared to form a luminous star that burst into droplets of light as the cheers escalated to their peak.

Music commenced and models took their walks along the stage. Many business savvy tailors chose not to accept the judge's challenge, contenting themselves to showcase their best practical work, unlike some other tailors who scrambled to make an extra outfit in a desperate fervor.

Perhaps the most obvious outfit wince was when Lord Phinagon attempted to try and pass off a human female for an elf. Her shoulders however, were far too broad, her gait far too rigid, and there was the fact that one of her pointed ears fell to the stage.

"I have to follow that atrocity," Narfindal said with derision, "but at least I can redeem the Elven name."

His models took the stage, three gold elves and a moon elf that reigned over them all, representing the Queen that presided over the island of Evermeet. The models performed prostrations in flowing masquerade gowns, dancing in a courtly manner before shedding the dresses to reveal tightly clad leggings and going through a fight sequence to act as bodyguards to their elven queen.

Raelos' models followed, going through a complex archery sequence that showcased the versatility of the outfits. A forest elf held the target, darting to and fro between the other moon elf models who acted as both trees and archers.

Jarlaxle set his feet down from the balcony's ledge and leaned forward, knowing that Jarian was next. How will you fare Artemis?

A soft mist clung to the bottom of the stage and a dark figure slowly made his way onstage. Twin daggers flashed in his hands, as he appeared to fly about the stage in a series of movements, reminiscent of the dire bats that resided in the Underdark. A mask of purest black covered his face, only revealing sallow skin surrounding grim lips. The mask converged to a point at the bridge of his nose, making Artemis Entreri a shadowed predator in search of prey.

Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin converged on him from the shadows. A tingle of magic emanated from the stage as a barrier was created to make sure that whatever fighting occurred onstage would stay onstage and not injure the audience. Their lizard-hide outfits flexed and writhed with their every muscle movement as they converged on the 'prey' that sought to do them 'harm'.

Weapons were pulled from various inter-dimensional pockets and utilized to fight the wild creature that refused to be tamed. Entreri darted across the stage, dodging magic that was thrown at him, using the cloak as a shield against the attacks, twirling it in a dramatic billow that resembled a bat flapping. Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin moved as one concentrating a final attack only to have the 'bat' meet them head on.

The crowd gasped and the four clashed in a burst of sparks, disarming the barrier to have the stage return to normal. As the smoke cleared their outfits had naught a tear, they each bowed and retreated from the stage to the sound of applause.

"A human? That was a human wasn't it?"

"More or less, yes." Jarlaxle stood, an overly pleased smile on his face. "We'll be seeing you tomorrow Narfindal."

Author's Note: Yes, Entreri is BATMAN :giggles madly: That seriously didn't occur to me until I was reading it over and went, "by the abyss, my subconscious is messed up." Then again, I am writing on the tail feathers of post-migraine inspiration and did have a slight fever earlier (most of which I was mumbling, 'MUST WRITE').

I ended up going on a slight vacation not too long ago (which was awesome, visited some friends) and let's just say the ideas flowed (and yes, that's why it took a bit for another update…along with some errors). I think my writerly self further awakened (yes, 'writerly'…I have thus concluded that if one has an English degree that one has the permission to make up their own words and that proper punctuation can 'take a hike' if it makes a story sound good).

Next chapter, Day Three will commence. Who precisely will make it to that coveted third day? What surprises await our characters? Will there be any more friendly smoking with a 'stranger'? Stay tuned.

Entreri: "Batman? You made me look like Batman?"

Authoress: "No! You were a representation of a bat from the Underdark, it was mere coincidence that you just happened to be a man dressed as a bat! You just be glad Jarian didn't include the pointy ears!"

Jarian: "Hmm…"

Jarlaxle: "Can I be the Joker?"

Entreri: "No."

Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin: "Ohhh, it's like cosplay!"

Entreri: …

Jarlaxle: "The Authoress can be Catwoman!"

Authoress: "Um…Entreri, pass me that flask of yours…"

Entreri: My flask. :covet:

Authoress: "I'm NOT Catwoman, make Alurra be Catwoman!" :desperately motions to review button to distract everyone:

Thank you once again everyone for your reviews that ALWAYS make me smile and encourage me to be a better writer. (And of course, sometimes they act as a nudge for some hardcore writing/editing).