Zardoz Zord
Jhelnae climbed down the dock ladder, hesitating at the bottom before boarding the rowboat below. From the dock, the waters of Deepwater Harbor looked calm, midday sun glinting off gently undulating waves. It was calm by ocean standards she supposed, but the step from the ladder to the rocking boat was still a matter of timing and balance and the half-drow felt especially self-conscious of how she boarded knowing a certain tabaxi, who had descended the ladder and onto the boat with her typical feline grace, would be watching and ready to pounce with a mocking comment at any perceived clumsiness.
Once on the boat, she took a moment to steady herself, then made her way past the pair of gnomes at the oars to the bench near the front and took a seat next to Sky. By the time she sat, Aleina, who had come down the ladder just behind her, was also onboard.
"Is that the last passenger?" one of the gnomes asked.
Most of Jhelnae's experience with gnomes came from Blingdenstone. These gnomes had tanned skin rather than the darker complexion of the Underdark and orange hair and beards instead of being bald and clean shaven. They also dressed in much brighter colors - yellow tunics tucked into blue pants with broad leather belts fastened by silver buckles polished to a mirror sheen. The colors scheme reminded the half-drow of the blue and gold tabards worn by the goat ball playing golems in Blue Alley. Strange to think their foray into the wizard's labyrinth was earlier that same day. She felt distant, time wise, from that particular adventure, although a few aches and bruises lingered from those games.
"This is all of us," Kuhl said, taking his seat next to Aleina.
They'd had a chance to rest and change their clothes at the Trollskull since leaving the Palace, retrieving their surveillance gear, and reporting to Ront and Yagra. Kuhl wore one of his nicer shirts, as appropriate as an envoy for the Open Lord of Waterdeep - a shirt of off-white linen with silk embroidery around the hems and collar. Something she and Aleina picked out because it reminded them of Derendil. This shirt fit the half-elf far better than the shredded one the quaggoth squeezed into during their travels in the Underdark, accentuating Kuhl's athletic build rather than bursting at the seams. Jhelnae smiled wistfully at the thought. She still missed Derendil, of course, but knowing he had finally been reunited with his sister's spirit after millenia of effort gave his memory a sweetness that outweighed the sadness.
"Very good," the gnome said. "I am Nixen Kindguard and this is my brother Mixen. We will be ferrying you out to the Eyecatcher."
Mixen touched the rim of his broad sun hat in greeting and Nixen waved a hand out towards the harbor where the ship the Eyecatcher, the flagship of the three ships comprising the Sea Maiden's Faire, was anchored about a mile out. Then they took firmer grips on the oars they handled and paddled the boat away from the dock ladder.
Facing backwards as she was, Jhelnae watched as they moved away from the dock. The carnival was being set up for another afternoon and evening of festivities. A team of workers used guide ropes to pull the blue dragon balloon, reinflated to its full majesty, down the gangplanks of one of the boats where it had been tied off for the night and back onto the dock. The half-drow noticed something else as well.
"Aleina," Jhelnae said. "Will you just stop? It isn't going to magically grow back because you're pulling at it."
The aasimar sighed and stopped worrying at the gap in her bangs sliced by the scything blade trap in Blue Alley. She too had changed into some of her finer clothes - a green and brown skirt and hose legging ensemble that was also practical. Something in which she could exert herself in if it came to a situation of fight or flight, the latter possibly being quite literal in the aasimar's case.
"Temple of Beauty," she said. "As soon as we're done with lunch with this Jarlaxle character."
"As soon as we're done," the half-drow said. "I'll go with you."
At the mention of the name Jarlaxle, both gnomes shared a glance.
"We were told you were invited to lunch with Zardoz Zord," Mixen said. "There is no Jarlaxle on the Eyecatcher."
"We meant Zardoz Zord," Jhelnae said, rolling her eyes.
When they'd showed up at the two docked ships of the Sea Maiden's Faire and said they had a message from the Open Lord for Jarlaxle, there had been a scurry of activity, despite the sailors and eventually the captain saying they didn't recognize that name. The companions had waited, first awkwardly on the gangplank then in chairs set out on the dock, while messages were relayed to the flagship.
They had not been allowed on either docked ship, but neither sent away. Then the invitation to lunch with Zardoz Zord came with an offer to clear up any confusion.
"Aren't you the two gnome brothers who operate the catapult?" Sky asked.
"That's us," Nixen said, nodding as he worked his oar. "I told you it was the same cat person."
The last part he directed to his brother and his voice was resigned, as if he knew and dreaded what was coming next.
"Tabaxi," Sky said. "Not cat person. My name is Red Sky in the Morning and now you can't say that I am holding up the line. So, I'll ask again, why are only children thrown by the catapult?"
The gnome brothers paused in their rowing to shrug, Mixen nodding to Nixen.
"Too many complaints from adults," the brother tasked with answering said as they resumed rowing. "My neck hurts. My back hurts. My shoulder is stiff. I tweaked my knee. I think I broke a toe or a finger."
"You forgot, I lost a tooth," the other brother said.
"I lost a tooth," Nixen agreed, nodding.
"My wig fell into the harbor," Mixen added.
Nixen gave a huff of frustration and mimicked the voice of a complaining customer.
"That wig is made from the hair from the beard of a kirin," he said in mock outrage. "You better help me fish it out!"
His voice switched to normal.
"Is it our fault the balding human felt he just had to take a turn on the catapult to impress his young girlfriend?" he asked.
"But children," Mixen cut in before anyone could answer. "Children never complain after being catapulted. So, we resolved, only children. It made things easier."
"That's the reason?" the tabaxi said, tail lashing. "I wouldn't have complained."
"That is what they all promise," Mixen said. "Then, the next thing you know, you are casting nets off the dock in hopes of catching a hair piece."
"What does a wig made from the hair from a beard of a kirin look like?" Sky asked, mind immediately latching onto a new curiosity.
"Quite becoming, actually," Nixen said.
His brother nodded in agreement.
"Maybe you and Aleina can find something like that at the Market," Kuhl said, smiling and looking at Jhelnae. "Rather than visiting the Temple of Beauty."
A sharp elbow from the aasimar turned his smile to a bemused wince.
"Very funny, Kuhl," Aleina said. "You know, you are due for a trip to the barber yourself. But maybe I should give it a try. Using Dawnbringer."
The half-drow laughed. Both at the worried expression that crossed the half-elf's face and the way the aasimar started messing with the gap in her bangs again.
"She says she is an ancient magic blade and not a pair of hair shears," Kuhl said, relaying a telepathic message from his sentient sword, then sighed. "But also, that she is willing to be wielded by Aleina for this particular noble purpose."
The aasimar grinned and stopped fussing with her hair.
"Don't worry, Kuhl," she said. "As long as you stay really still you won't have anything to worry about. I cut the hair of my male cousins all the time growing up. Of course that could be the reason so few of them caught the interest of any ladies..."
"I think now is a good time to remind you," the half-elf said, interrupting. "That I'm the one who pulled you out of the way of that blade trap."
"I haven't forgotten," Aleina said, eyes gazing up at her own bangs. "And I'm thankful. Just pull a little faster next time."
The companionable nudge she gave him along with the ever so brief lean of her head against his shoulder conveyed her gratitude more than her teasing words.
"I'll try," the half-elf said.
But the banter had left his voice and his expression was troubled. His wandering gaze found Jhelnae's and they seemed to share the same thought. The miss of the blade trap had been a very close thing, too close. Maybe the flare of Aleina's warding armor might have saved her if Kuhl had not pulled her out of harm's way, but maybe not. The half-drow wanted there to never be another next time and she was sure the half-elf wished the same.
Yet here they were, on a rowboat, headed to the flagship that was supposedly the lair of a very dangerous individual. Someone who probably had someone who cut off the heads of elves and half-elves and left the bodies on the streets of the Dock Ward in their employ. Were the four of them collectively crazy?
"I can see why she is named the Eyecatcher," Sky said, jarring Jhelnae from her thoughts. "She is a beauty."
The half-drow turned on the bench to look towards their destination. The ship was eye-catching, a sleek two master with a tall tapering prow and a high aft castle. The hull was decorated with a swirling pattern in blue paint in the front with lines of gold paint covering the aft. Sailors leaning against the railing watched their approach.
"Good looking crew," Aleina said.
It was true. The sailors were on the shorter side for humans, but uniformly whipcord lean young men. Of course they'd noted the same for the sailors of the docked Heartbreaker and Hellraiser ships, but there at least carnival workers were also on the decks to give some variety.
But it was the figurehead at the front that drew Jhelnae's attention as they came closer - a gilded wooden elf maid with flowing hair and reaching forth with both hands. She was unpainted except for the swirling blue design on the front of the ship that twined up her carved body like a stylized dress. Something about the smile on her lips, a knowing smirk really, made the half-drow's own lips tingle and the cold power of the Demonweb pulse through her veins.
The gnomes maneuvered their rowboat alongside the Eyecatcher, and a ladder of rope and planks splashed into the harbor water nearby.
"Hold it steady as the others climb up, half-elf, then do the same," Nixen said. "We'll tie off and wait to bring you back ashore after your lunch with Zord."
Kuhl did as directed and, one by one, the companions boarded the Eyecatcher, the sailors helping to pull them up on the deck when they came within reach.
"Jhelnae?" Aleina asked as the half-drow scrambled over the railing.
The confusion in the aasimar's voice made Jhelnae give her friend a questioning glance. She found Aleina looking at her with wide eyes. Sky also stared, golden eyes narrowed contemplatively and tail lashing.
"What?" the half-drow asked. "Did something get on my face as I climbed up?"
It was the only reason she could think of for their strange expressions as they examined her. When Kuhl had the same reaction after climbing on board, she used a sleeve of her tunic to wipe at her face.
"It's not something on your face," Aleina said. "It is your face."
Before Jhelnae could say that was a bit rude, Sky did something ruder still. She reached up and pinched one of the half-drow's ears.
Hard.
"Ow!" Jhelnae yelped. "By all that dances, Sky! What was that for!"
"Her pointed ears are still there," the tabaxi said. "So, some sort of illusion magic."
Not satisfied to take Sky's word for it, the aasimar felt for herself. Thankfully her touch was gentle and she tucked stray hairs behind Jhelnae's ear as she did it.
"You're right, illusion magic," Aleina said.
Illusion magic? What were they talking about? But as the half-drow caught sight of her hands, she knew. Her skin was the pale tone of some human races when tanned by the sun rather than her usual ebony black.
"By all that dances," she whispered.
Strangely, the sailors around them showed no reaction to her conversation with her companions or her revelation about the change in her appearance. Their looks were guarded and the way they crowded around their group kept them from moving about the deck. She'd just had that thought when the sailors parted to make way for a human dressed in a ruffled tunic under a light nautically cut jacket wearing a blue sash at his waist and knee-high black boots.
"Welcome aboard!" he said, bowing and sweeping off his leather tricorn hat. "I am captain Tarwind Arryhook. Zord is waiting in the dining cabin. I will take you to him."
He shared the lean build of his sailors and looked altogether too youthful to be the captain. Jhelnae's mind was still playing catch up.
"What do I look like to you?" she asked.
The captain squinted at her in confusion as he dropped his hat back on top of his head, but he seemed to take her question seriously and regarded her for a moment.
"Like a lovely, honored guest," he said. "Am I right men?"
A chorus of agreement followed this proclamation from the surrounding sailors. One even gave a loud whistle.
It all felt very staged to the half-drow. Her friends had not reacted to her change in skin color and the appearance of her ears until she'd come on board. Therefore, the transformation had happened then. It was improbable, no impossible, all the sailors missed it. So, they had seen, just expected it and chose, or more likely were instructed, not to comment.
"Come on," the captain said, heading towards the aft. "Zord and the others are waiting. This way to the dining cabin."
"You look human," Aleina whispered in Celestial.
Celestial was a common language they shared and used when they wanted to keep a conversation private between the two of them. The aasimar spoke it due to a mix of her ancestry and the visits of her dream-guide since childhood and Jhelnae had learned it from her father.
"You look mostly the same," Aleina said. "Except for your skin color and ears."
The half-drow already figured out as much. The burning questions were why? And why was only she effected?
Then she understood. She was drow, well part-drow, but took after her dark elf ancestry. The three they had followed to the Blue Alley last night, presumably off one of the ships of the Sea Maiden's Faire, had also been drow, as was this Jarlaxle to whom they'd been tasked to deliver the message. What if the ships had been enchanted to cast an illusion on drow? That would explain why the sailors didn't leave the ship, their shorter stature, and their fey leaness. A glance around at the features of the surrounding sailors, their almond shaped eyes and clean-shaven faces confirmed it in Jhelnae's mind.
Which meant the ship was full of a group of disguised drow who had watched her appearance change. Surely, they knew she would figure out their ruse, but they seemed not to care. The Open Lord, Laeral Silverhand, had stated there would be consequences to any harming her messagers. But what if the drow never read the message? Decided they had to act on impulse to protect a greater secret?
These were the worrying thoughts racing through Jhelnae's mind as she followed the captain with the others across the deck and past the illusioned crew. Captain Tarwind threw open a pair of double doors at the base of the aft castle and they made their way down a corridor with doors on either side to another double set at the end. Through these was the dining cabin.
It was bedecked with golden filigree, the purple curtains festooned with silken tassels, the wood paneling scented with perfume that mixed with the harbor air coming from the open windows at the rear of the cabin. A magnificent feast laid out on golden platters sprawled atop a mahogany table of exquisite craftsmanship. Even the doilies were something to behold.
A dusk skinned, blue eyed woman, brown hair still mussed and wearing only a short silk sleeping chemise played a lyre in the corner while a similarly attired athletically built woman with dark hair and cinnamon colored skin watched with adoring attention. The well-built, trim figure of a man standing next to these two turned and toasted the arrival of the companions and the captain with an uplifted wine goblet. He wore nothing but an eyepatch and crisscrossing crimson leather shoulder straps that apparently served no other purpose than to hold up his scarlet loincloth and the flashy rapier at his waist.
"Welcome aboard the Eyecatcher," he said, flashing his pearly white teeth. "Zardoz Zord, at your service."
The last line of the letter from Jarlaxle to Laeral Silverhand came to the forefront of Jhelnae's mind.
These are the questions that haunt my dreams, as surely as I haunt yours.
Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the man with the raised wine goblet. This was the author of such a roguish signoff, she was sure of it. The choice to greet his guests in just this sort of attire, or lack thereof, amid a feast of plenty was the same style of teasing, wanton, excess. They had suspected when the lunch invitation came, but now the half-drow was almost certain. This wasn't Zardoz Zord, doubtless a made-up personality, but Jarlaxle Baenre.
Lots of work going on and not much time to write...and, found this hard for some reason. It is very much a transition chapter (getting the characters from A to B), but I hope still readable.
Sorry - found some typos.