Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 11

The rude awakening

Imoen smoothed out her skirt as she stepped into the inn's common area. Grinning, she felt that the town's seamstress really came through for her with the dress, especially given the short notice. The pink of the fabric went really well with her skin and hair and the fit was perfect. Combined with the flowers in her hair which she'd picked while on a stroll, she felt well prepared for the celebration in store for them.

Bring on the dancing!

The innkeep glanced at her as she entered. Despite them being in good standing with the mayor now, the man seemed nervous around them, especially Kivan. Maybe leaving a dead body in their room wasn't the best way to make a good first impression.

"Let's go while the night is young," she exclaimed, causing her four companions to look up from their conversation at a corner table.

Unlike her, Khalid, Jaheira, Elene and Kivan were dressed in the usual clothing they wore underneath their armour. The only improvement from the norm perhaps was that they all looked fresh and pristine after a whole day's rest in Nashkel.

After briefing the mayor on arrival the previous night, he was so pleased with the findings that he insisted on throwing a party in their honour, despite Jaheira's best efforts to demur. And so it was, instead of leaving the town at first light, they were to present themselves to the Belching Dragon Tavern for a good food and free-flowing drinks at nightfall. Of course, some other details were discussed after the mayor declared them heroes of Nashkel but she'd tuned out by then and started planning for the party.

"You look lovely, Im," observed Elene, smiling. "That dressmaker knows her stuff."

"Well, ya could've looked 'lovely' too if you'd come with me," Imoen nudged her as she joined them at the table.

Her friend chuckled, pulling up the scarf around her shoulders over her head. The addition of the scarf lent an air of mystery to her, Imoen thought. "I think it's better for everyone if I went around unnoticed."

"So…what are we waiting around for?"

"Xan hasn't come out yet," answered Khalid.

Imoen had almost forgotten about the elf. She hadn't seen him after he retired to his shared room with Kivan the night before. Apparently, he had agreed to accompany them to Beregost to seek out this Tranzig person mentioned in Mulahey's letters. Jaheira seemed to think that his magic and investigative skills would come in handy in rooting out the mastermind of the iron crisis, so that was that.

Jaheira leaned forward, looking straight at Imoen. "Remember to be vigilant, child. Those women who attacked us, they may have had allies here."

"But I'm just a local girl going for drink and dance," the girl replied with an innocent blink.

Elene covered her mouth to conceal her laughter while Kivan shook his head ever so slightly. Jaheira let out a long-suffering sigh. Before she could say anything else, though, Xan stepped through the threshold.

Imoen almost goggled at the sight of him. He seemed like a different person altogether. All cleaned up, he was possibly the most handsome man she'd ever seen, with sharp features, alabaster skin and soulful eyes. The scratches and bruises previously colouring his flesh were gone and he'd cut his hair such that it hung neatly just below his chin. His new outfit was brighter in colouring, with an overcoat on top of his tunic and trousers, making him seem like a dashing nobleman.

She shot a sidelong glance at Elene. The other girl was also staring.

Oh, this could be interesting.

"You clean up pretty well, eh?" Imoen grinned at him.

Xan's jaw tightened minutely as he glanced down at his clothes. "As best as one could in this town."

Jaheira stood. "Let's get this over with. We have an early start in the morning."

The night was warm, and the streets were littered with some handful of other people making their way towards the tavern. When they arrived, a few bards with music instruments were just about to get their act together as food and drinks began to be served at the tables for all to partake. Imoen spotted a group of young men and women on the other side of the tavern and knew that was where she needed to be.

"Looks like a full house," Khalid commented.

"I'll…maybe sit in the corner," said Elene, drawing her scarf closer to conceal her features. Xan glanced at her with interest but said nothing.

Jaheira nodded. "We will be with Berrun." She then gave Imoen a pointed look. "Be careful."

Imoen returned the look with a beatific smile before moving off to join the group of young people in the room. Elene's hand ghosted on her shoulder as she walked away. It would have been nice to have Elene with her, but her friend was the type to curl up at a corner table with a book while everyone was enjoying themselves, and that was even before the whole assassins-in-every-town issue. Maybe it was just an elf thing. Kivan and Xan also seemed sort of joyless, nothing at all like the merry elves in the books she used to read.

"Heya," she announced as she joined the group of what seemed to be her peers. The women smiled looking at the flowers in her hair while the men watched her with interest. "I'm Imoen. What do you do for fun in these parts?"

And just like that, she made a few new friends. The rest of the evening went by in a bit of blur, interspersed with hearty pies, surprisingly good quality mead and a lot of weaving and swaying to the music of the bards. It was amazing. In her years in Candlekeep, there were very few people her age she could interact with and even less parties to attend. The people she grew up with could recite Alaundo's hundred-page scriptures from memory but didn't even know a basic three-step dance. She had Winthrop to thank for making sure she knew how to live life properly. With mead and nice clothes and dancing.

I miss Puffguts. Wish he were here to see me.

She wondered if she could ever go back to Candlekeep for a visit once she was done with adventuring. Granted, she wouldn't want to settle down and grow old there, but it would be nice to catch up with Puffguts, Hull and the rest, regaling them with tales of heroic exploits. Like solving an iron crisis, that definitely qualified as heroic!

Sitting down for a quick drink, she looked around for the others. Jaheira, Khalid and Xan were deep in conversation with Berrun and a few of what must be off-duty guards. Guards always had the same sort of look to them, she thought, stiff-shouldered with eyes full of suspicion. They huddled closely, completely ignorant of the on-going merrymaking around them. That table looked pretty boring, she concluded.

Further in the back close to the kitchens, Kivan and Elene sat next to each other, the former nursing a tankard while watching the latter try to awkwardly fend off an invitation from a keen lad. This didn't surprise Imoen in the slightest, quite a few of the boys were asking after her mysterious elven friend. She considered the conversations she'd had that night for a moment. Well, to be fair, the girls were also asking after the elven gentlemen. A few had even tried to engage with Kivan earlier but got thoroughly ignored.

After about a minute of Elene trying to gently turn down her suitor, the ranger put his tankard down and said something brief to the lad, causing the young man to beat a hasty retreat. Even from a distance, Imoen could see the palpable relief in Elene's posture. She smiled into her cup. For such a stern fellow, Kivan did seem to have a soft spot for her friend. It was probably just some kind of chivalry code or something, but it was good ammunition to tease her friend with anyway. She missed teasing Elene on silly things like this.

Grinning, Imoen stood, aiming to dance with a fellow she had an eye on earlier. At the same time, however, the Boring Table also got to their feet. Jaheira exchanged a warm handshake with the mayor before she, Khalid and Xan went to join Kivan and Elene in their corner. Imoen stood there torn momentarily, but in the end, she opted to proceed with her initial plan.

There will always be adventurer stuff tomorrow, but this party is just for tonight. Elene will let me know if it's important, anyway.

She managed to get through one full jig with Samson, a soft-spoken farmer's son, before she heard a familiar whistle. Turning, she saw Elene wave at her from across the room, with Xan and Kivan chatting behind her. Khalid and Jaheira were no longer in sight. She gave an apologetic smile and curtseyed to Samson before going to Elene.

"We have to go, Im." Elene looked apologetic as she approached. "Sorry you can't stay til the end."

Imoen sighed but gave her a wistful smile. "Hey, it was fun while it lasted."

"I'm glad," her friend reached over to squeeze her shoulder.

"Did you guys have any fun at all?"

Elene let out a breathy laugh as she glanced at Xan and Kivan. Their blank faces said it all.

Imoen took up the role of party spokesperson as they left, smiling and nodding at all the grateful well-wishers, feeling good about what they did for these people. The miners can go back to work now, and the women no longer needed to worry about losing fathers, husbands and sons to the depths. As a bonus, she saw that Elene looked relaxed for the first time since the day she'd left Candlekeep. Hopefully, they could build enough of a reputation to make those nasty people pursuing her think twice about attacking them.

Xan and Kivan walked ahead of them as they ducked out of the tavern, still conversing in elvish. The two elves were a study of contrasts, one polished and ethereal, the other rugged and earthy. She remembered studying about elves as a child to try to understand Elene better at the time. Xan was a high elf like her friend, and she could see some similarities in their elegance and thoughtful demeanour. Kivan, if she guessed right, is a wood elf. Tougher physique-wise, with coppery colouring and stronger affinity to the natural world.

Briefly she wondered about Khalid and Jaheira and the elven half of their heritage. Maybe she could ask Khalid in the morning. For now, she felt that her friend needed a bit more cheer to chase away the pensive expression she was wearing.

"So…I saw Jacob tried to ask ya to dance," Imoen grinned. "Why didn't you give it a try?"

"Oh, no, no. Dancing is not for me," Elene waved her hands in front of her, palms outward in the universal sign of 'no way'. "Worse, I would have to do small talk. What do I say? Oh hello, my name is Elene, slayer of kobolds, hunted across the Sword Coast for crimes unknown. So, Jacob, what do you do for a living?"

"You could try dancing with Kivan then," the rogue gave her an impish look.

Elene gaped at her, then shot a nervous glance at the two gentlemen ahead of them. "I…what? Did you have too much to drink?"

She wasn't wrong, Imoen was feeling a bit tipsy. But she would never admit that.

"More like you didn't have enough!"

"Oh, Im," Elene shook her head tiredly, "You know I can't. At least not until we figure out what's going on."

Imoen bumped her shoulder. "It'll be okay, ya big worrywart. Jaheira will figure it out. And now we have a Greycloak with us! They're supposed to be some super investigators or something. He's got a moonblade, so he must be real super."

"Well, Greycloaks look out for elves. I suppose that can't be a bad thing for me."

"That's right, positive thoughts!"

Elene put an arm affectionately around her. "And this is why I keep you around."

"Oy! Miss Elf!"

Both girls paused and turned, Elene's hand instinctively straying to her sword hilt. All of them went out with their weapons that night except for Imoen, something the rogue instantly regretted. But then, who brings swords to a party? They relaxed, however, when they saw a gangly boy hurry towards them with an outstretched hand. He couldn't be older than fourteen summers. "Ye dropped this at yer table, miss," the boy called out.

Elene and Imoen exchanged confused looks.

"Huh. Maybe it's one of my components," Elene shrugged, moving to meet the boy halfway.

Imoen threw a glance over her shoulder. Kivan and Xan had also stopped walking, watching her expectantly. She held out a hand, palm outward. Wait up.

"Oh, aye, thank ye, miss. Thought I'd lose ye fer sure," the boy breathed as he drew close to Elene. He opened his hand and presented her with something that Imoen couldn't see in the faint lighting of distant torches. Frowning as she studied the proffered item, Elene half-turned to Imoen from a few paces away.

"Hey Im, did you drop a necklace…"

Before she could finish the sentence, the boy moved. His entire form flickered as he threw an arm around Elene and hauled her back towards him. Then, the illusion dropped completely. Instead of a gangly boy, a stocky man stood there in darkened mail. That was all Imoen could process before steel flashed in the man's hand.

"Tazok sends his regards," Imoen heard the man say to Elene, his voice like velvet.

Then just as Elene began to push backward into him to extricate herself, he drew a blade across her throat.

Imoen screamed.

In one smooth motion, the man released Elene and stepped back. The damaged was done, though. Imoen could only watch as Elene fell to her knees, hands around her ruined throat as she began to choke.

This…this can't be happening.

"Imoen, get Jaheira!"

Xan's urgent shout startled her out of her shock. Following his command almost on instinct, she pivoted on her heel and began running in the direction of the inn, delicate skirts be damned. Behind her, the man spoke a familiar word of command. Three Magic Missiles hit her in the back in quick succession. Whatever remaining vestiges of alcohol in her system immediately evaporated in that instant. Yelping in pain, she stumbled but somehow managed to stay on her feet, even as she saw Kivan loose an arrow towards the man. Xan had already advanced with his moonblade, a hand outstretched with a glow building on his fingertips. She had to trust Xan and Kivan to finish the job. Elene needed Jaheira and she needed her now. That was all she thought of as she ran faster than she'd even run in her life.

Even then, the minutes it took for her to cross the small town felt like agonising hours. She barged into the inn like a gust of wind, shouting Jaheira's name. Both Khalid and Jaheira were fortunately in discussion with the innkeep and they whirled around in surprise at her arrival, hands already on their weapons.

"What is it?" Jaheira demanded.

"Elene's hurt! Come quick!" she told them breathlessly, then promptly turned around and started running back to the battle.

As she ran, her mind kept flashing back to the spray of blood as the man cut Elene. Was that arterial spray? Could her friend still be alive if it was? Does Xan know healing magic? She cursed as her eyes began to burn. Stupid, stupid! After all the caution and secrecy, how could they have been so dumb to fall for such a trick?

She saw Xan and Kivan huddled close to the ground as she drew up. A body lay on the ground nearby but it was too dark to discern whose it was. Coming to a skidding halt near them, she nearly burst from relief seeing Kivan cradle Elene while pressing a bundle of cloth to her neck. Xan was speaking softly above their heads. Imoen realised that it was some sort of spell to sedate Elene, who was struggling to breathe through the blood pooling at her throat. But she was breathing. Her eyes were closed, yet her fingers were curled tightly around Kivan's wrist as if she could help him staunch the blood flow.

Thank Lathander, she's alive!

Jaheira arrived at her heel soon after. She thrust her staff to Imoen to free up her own hands. Xan stepped back to allow the druid space. As she knelt to take a closer look at Elene, a tense look was exchanged between her and Kivan.

"Lift it slowly," Jaheira told him.

Kivan nodded and gingerly took the cloth off the wound. Jaheira went to work immediately, chanting the first of likely several healing spells. Belatedly, Imoen noticed that the bundle of cloth was Elene's scarf. Putting the scarf aside, Kivan took Elene's hand, placed it on her stomach and held it there. The girl did not resist. After a few seconds, she relaxed into unconsciousness, as if knowing she was in good hands.

"What happened?" Khalid was at her shoulder.

"Assassin," answered Xan before she could think to say anything. He bent over the body of Elene's attacker, head tilted as he considered something. "A skilled one. He would have gotten away if Kivan hadn't hit him first."

"He was disguised," Imoen blurted. "He looked like a young boy, saying Lene dropped something. And then he grabbed her. He said, 'Tazok sends his regards'." At this, Kivan's head whipped up towards her, causing Xan's attention to flicker to him. "After that he got a knife out and…he slit her…" she trailed off, covering her mouth in horror recalling what happened.

Khalid put an arm around her. "It's alright, Imoen. Jaheira has her."

"Yes, I imagine your friend should be up by morning," Xan commented, his tone nonchalant. "We wouldn't have been able to defeat the assassin so handily if she hadn't helped."

"What?" Imoen was dumbstruck. "She…she was badly hurt."

Xan smiled wanly at her. "On the contrary, she got up and put a few knives in his back barely minutes ago. Quite impressive for someone who'd gotten their throat cut."

She turned to Kivan in disbelief. The elf looked about as unnerved as she felt.

"He speaks the truth," he confirmed.

Silence fell upon the group for the following minutes, barring Jaheira's soft chants. Imoen's mind reeled. She knew what she saw, the scene had repeated itself in her mind's eye with crystal clarity as she ran for help. By rights, her friend should be dead. No one walked away from a sliced throat. None of what Xan said made any sense.

"It is done," Jaheira announced finally, sitting back on her haunches. She lifted her gaze to focus on Kivan. "Can you help me bring her to the Temple of Helm? I am unable to completely heal it, their priests may be able to do more for her."

Kivan nodded, already gathering Elene up in his arms.

"I will inform the guard," Xan offered, gazing in the direction of the garrison. "And ask if anyone in town knew him." He gestured at the assassin.

"Good idea." Jaheira wiped her hands on her tunic, her eyes flicking to the cooling corpse. "Khalid?"

"I will take care of it, dear."

"Let us regroup at the Temple as soon as we can," the druid took her staff back from Imoen. She grasped the girl by the shoulder. "Imoen, whatever happens, you stay with Khalid. Elene will be fine. I promise."

"Okay."

Jaheira, Kivan and Xan set off into the night. Imoen stood over the assassin and had her first good look at the man. He was a plain-looking fellow, the type you wouldn't look twice at on the streets. Based on her once-over, he must have died from a stab through the chest. Oddly, there wasn't much blood around his torso, as though the wound had been immediately cauterised. She shook her head. Elene's blade can't do that, so this must have been Xan's handiwork.

Khalid had already relieved the assassin of his pack and was sifting through its contents. Imoen noticed that the man also had several rings on his fingers, and she could sense that his boots had a hint of magic in them.

Okay, Imoen, it's time to put up or shut up.

Rolling up her sleeves, she crouched down next to Khalid and got to work.