Author's Note: A warning that there's a sex scene towards the end of this chapter.

48 – No Rest for the Wicked

"The Bloodaxe fellow swore up and down that his companions were about to betray him, so of course he had to get the drop on them first. Maybe he even believed it. Kind of admirable how he managed to end up with all the spoils, but I immediately made a note to never work with him again." –Kagain the Clanless, Gold, Not Glory: A Memoire

At night the streets of Baldur's Gate were well lit, lampposts standing at regular intervals over clean, empty lanes. The city had a seedy side of course; Ashura had witnessed that well enough in the Low Lantern, but overall it was a safe and quiet place. It was funny: in the storybooks cities were always portrayed as filthy dens of vice and danger. Of course the way the locals in The Gate talked that rule still applied to Iriaebor, Luskan, and every city in Amn. She'd have to visit those places sometime to see for herself.

Maybe she'd fit in better too. Walking the dark and silent streets, Ashura couldn't help but feel like a thief, her eyes forever searching for Flaming Fist patrols as they went. A thief and a thug. That was the role Eldoth and Skie insisted she play tonight, after all.

Gods, how did she ever let those two talk her into this stupid scheme? Which tactic truly convinced her: the promises of gold or Skie's puppydog eyes?

Well, there was no point grousing over it now. Play a cutthroat, get paid, and hopefully don't get mistaken for a real cutthroat by anyone afterwards. A simple enough job. And glancing down at her beaten armor and well-used swords, it occurred to Ashura that Eldoth had been right. She had actually cut a lot of throats over the past few months. Mostly of people who really deserved it, but still.

The company she was keeping fit the part as well. Beside her walked Shar-Teel, looming tall and wide in her horned helmet and well-kept scalemail, a hand always resting on the hilt of her sword. Eldoth strode at the front of their little procession, looking like a brazen pirate with his twinkling golden earrings, goatee and ponytail. Behind the three of them Skie hid beneath her hooded cloak, and sometime during their walk Viconia had slipped in beside them, cowled and veiled as usual; silent as a shadow.

A few strides more and Ashura turned to the drow to whisper. "So, how did Xan's investigation go?"

"A disaster, as usual," Viconia complained softly. "Yet somehow we managed to survive. You may thank me, if you wish, for the fact that your pet bard, the lovely girl and her dour little elven man all continue to draw air."

"I'm ever-so-grateful." A pause. "But what about the lecherous, tattooed elf?"

"He lives as well, though I guessed that you would not thank me for that."

Ashura chuckled, and they went along in silence from there, eyes constantly searching the shadows. The streets remained deserted, and eventually they slowed before a four story building, tall and broad but simple in design. A sign hung above the scratched-up door, displaying an arm that held a scimitar aloft, surrounded by glittering lights that seemed to be enchanted to constantly swirl and shift across the signboard. The Blade and Stars.

Instead of the front door Eldoth led them into a narrow alley and commanded that they wait while he and Skie disappeared for a few minutes, presumably searching for a trap. As they leaned against the nearby wall and bided their time, Ashura and Shar-Teel fished black pieces of cloth from their belts, adjusting their helmets as they fixed the masks to their faces.

A real cutthroat now. Ashura glanced around, satisfied that she could see clearly.

Eventually Eldoth and Skie reappeared, the bard slipping his hood over his head before reaching over to place a hand on Viconia's shoulder. "All clear," he whispered. "You and I shall enter the inn from the front and seek Entar's agent out. We'll give the rest of you plenty of time to enter through that window." He pointed. "I can assure you that the room on the far northwest side of the second story is empty and secure."

"Is this really necessary?" Ashura asked. "Couldn't we have just showed up early?"

Eldoth shook his head. "As soon as he got my message Entar probably sent people to scout out the inn. Best we all appear at exactly the appointed time."

"And more fun, too!" Skie's squeaked from beneath her hood. "Being all covert and sneaking in like T-words in the night! Don't worry. Eldoth has it all planned out."

"I'm sure." Ashura wasn't at all, but she followed Skie's lead as the girl pulled a pair of ropes and metal hooks out from beneath her cloak. She had yet to see any evidence that Eldoth was competent at anything besides convincing foolish women to do his dirty work, but perhaps this was his chance.

"These weren't made during the iron crisis, right?" Ashura asked as Skie handed her a grapple and began to swing her own over her head.

"Nope. They're finely made." Skie grinned. "Lifted them from daddy's stores myself." Her hook found the windowsill on the first swing, and after a little test she turned to Ashura, who shrugged and tried to throw her grapple as well.

Despite a lack of climbing experience it was easy enough to land the hook and walk up the wall, supported by the sturdy rope. Skie reached the windowsill first, silently pushing the leaded glass aside and slipping in. Ashura followed, and then they were both standing in a darkened bedroom. With a clink of armor that made Skie cringe, Shar-Teel landed in the room last, leaving the grapples in place and quickly working to light a lamp.

As soon as there was light Skie slid her hood back, grinning proudly and eliciting a raised eyebrow from Ashura. It seemed she had applied quite a bit of makeup to create the illusion of a bruised face and a bloodied lip. After showing her work off Skie crossed her wrists behind her back and gave Ashura and Shar-Teel an expectant look. "Now use some bed-cloth or something to tie my wrists. Just a simple knot will do of course. And make it loose."

Ashura shrugged and went to work, ripping a linen sheet. "You're putting a lot of effort into this scheme," she observed.

"Well yeah. It was my idea. Me and Eldy are going to live off this ransom money." She tilted her head back and smiled. "Somewhere far from my father's thumb. Yikes! That's a little too tight."

As she loosened the binding Ashura shook her head. "Do you really uh…trust him? To help you run away and live your dream and all that?" (All that garbage.) "I mean he's…" Should I say it? Bah, might as well. "He's a bit of a-"

"Philanderer?" Skie cut her off. She turned and smirked. "Did you sleep with him?"

"Yuck! No!" Ashura made a face.

"You can be honest…"

A frantic shaking of her head. "Really. No. Just saw him with…women. Before we got to Baldur's Gate. I'd never…"

Skie just kept grinning. "Think someone's protesting too much!"

Shar-Teel just let out a "Ha!"

Ashura gave up. Convincing this impish girl of exactly how repulsive she found Eldoth would probably be counterproductive anyway.

"It's okay," Skie went on. "I know exactly what Eldoth is. I'm not as naïve as people seem to think! Why, the first time I saw him was in the Undercellars, with Lady Areana bouncing in his lap and giggling. And the next time it was with Lady Kaella." She laughed. "The pompous old windbag was trying to be sneaky, at least.

"But when he's with me his eyes never wander, and he's going to get me out of here. That's the important thing. With the ransom money and the gems we took we're going on the road, for a grand tour of the Realms. And I'll never have to see that stuffy room in the estate again, or sleep in the same spot twice."

Ashura just watched her evenly. Sounded like the girl was trying to convince herself more than anything.

"I've been a prisoner in my own house for months now," Skie went on. "Daddy was strict before Eddard went off, but after his death…" She cringed at that word. "Well, he just lost it. House arrest, pure and simple. Until I'm married off, and giving him some heirs." She wrinkled her nose. "Like I'm some peasant farmer's breeding sow. I couldn't live like that. And Eldoth understood, and well…"

Ashura waved her hand. "Don't have to justify it to me. I'm not your mom." And it's not like I actually give a fuck. "You can do what you like. I just wouldn't trust him, personally."

Clenching her lips, Skie nodded a little. "He has that effect on people. You have to understand, he never had much of anything growing up. Put out in the street when he was tiny, and he's always had to hustle and pretend that he has it all together. But underneath that he's a good man."

Ashura just shrugged and Shar-Teel rolled her eyes. She just wasn't seeing the 'goodness,' but it wasn't like she was a paladin and could actually tell. Hells, she was hardly one to judge when it came to the matter of boys. At least she hadn't ever harbored dreams of running away with Hull and 'changing' him though, even at her worst teenage moments.

Turning towards the door, Ashura fought hard to change the subject. "So. They'll be here soon." She placed a hand on the hilt of her righthand sword. "I guess we're supposed to menace you?"

"That's the idea. Then as soon as the money changes hands, Eldoth will knock daddy's agent out and we'll climb down the ropes. And if they break the rules and bring multiple people, Viconia will take care of them."

Ashura wasn't so certain, but once again she shrugged, and then she drew her sword. "I'll try not to nick your neck or anything."

"Oh, you can if it's just a little bit. We want to really sell it and keep them back. Come on, you menacing, brutish women you! Let's see how tough you are!"

Ugh. She really is enjoying this.

"Ah, now this is definitely better than the Elfsong," Imoen proclaimed as she kicked her boots off, wiggling her toes a bit against plush red-on-gold carpet. "We're moving up in the world! Yessir." She glanced down and bit her lip. There seemed to be quite a few holes in her socks. Not to mention that they were still soaked. With sewer water. Yick.

"For a few nights at least," Xan murmured as he placed his pack upon the dresser. "Until our funds go dry."

"We really can afford to live it up a bit, ya sourpuss," Imoen countered. "You'd be amazed how much Halruaan Skyship components sell for."

That just brought out a cringe. "I still say those would have been safer in the care of the Greycloaks. Evereska would never build an armada of flying warships, but some of the other powers on the coast…"

"Oh pish! I edited the spellbook before I handed the package to Black Lily. Not like whoever buys it will get a ship working."

"And that itself may have dangerous, unforeseen consequences."

"Yup! That's what I'm all about."

Xan allowed himself a mild chuckle. "You are going to turn me into a rogue one of these days."

"Yup again." She reached over and rested a hand on his shoulder. "A corrupting influence on our innocent lil Greycloak. That's me." She scrunched up closer, but they were soon interrupted by the door swinging open and several servants marching through, pots of steaming water in hand. They quickly went to work filling the long porcelain tub in a corner of the room, the maid who had first shown them to the suite directing it all before turning towards Imoen and Xan.

"You may wish to deposit your clothes in here," the maid said as she nudged a nearby wicker basket. "We can have them laundered and mended."

"Sounds like a great idea," Imoen said with a smile. Several of the servants left, but the maid and a smartly dressed manservant remained on either side of the tub. An uncomfortable silence followed. "So. Um…" Imoen eventually murmured, fidgeting.

The maid bowed slightly. "We are here to assist with undressing and bathing, should you need it."

That sent Imoen's eyebrows shooting up.

"We can assist with the privacy of sir…" the man hastily added.

"…or madam," the maid finished. "Whomever wishes to bathe first."

"Urm…that won't be necessary," Imoen managed quickly.

"It is your choice, of course," the maid went on, "but we do like to offer all who stay at the Helm and Cloak treatment befitting a noble."

"Yeah. Well. We'll manage. And we'll put the basket out in the hall."

"Very good, ma'am." Once more the maid bowed, then she and the other servant scurried off.

"Sheesh," Imoen muttered as the door shut. "There's such a thing as being too attentive." She giggled and turned to Xan. "Ha! 'The noble treatment.' Did you have servants bathing you, when you grew up? Those rich purple robes and all that jewelry always had me wondering if you were some kind of elven royalty."

Xan shook his head slightly. "In Everska servants are practically unheard of. The mythal assists with most needs that human nobles use them for. In addition, the Feiliens are actually a simple merchant family. My mother was a clerk, and my father a seller of herbs and spices. I hope that does not disappoint."

"Ha! Of course not. It's a relief actually, for little old-barmaid-foundling me. Ya just always act a bit like a prince."

Xan looked down at his vibrant purple robes, as if seeing them for the first time. He smoothed the fabric out with his fingers. "My people are all like this, I suppose." His eyes shifted to the tub, trails of steam still rising and a porcelain dish with soap and a sea sponge sitting on a table beside it. He and Imoen shared a look, followed by a long and indecisive moment, then without a word they both reached to the clasps of their cloaks.

Other strings and other garments loosened and followed, one by one, and Imoen couldn't help but snicker a few moments later when she found herself naked as a jaybird, her soiled clothes tossed haphazard into the basket, and Xan was still carefully folding his outer robes and setting them upon the bed. She waited by the bath, a hand on her hip and a foot tapping. "It'll all get ruffled in the wash anyway, you know."

He looked up at her, then down and away. Aw. He's blushing. Heck, I sure am. "True, I suppose." With that he hurried a little. Such a challenge sometimes, getting him out of his shell.

From her spot by the tub Imoen watched gaunt, pale skin reveal itself one garment at a time. It was strange. As she recalled he had been naked the first time they met, and she still felt horrible about that day. Finding this poor, broken fellow hanging from manacles, just wisps of flesh and a little bone, and she had just gawked and asked him a question, not knowing what else to do. It had been such a shock. She hadn't known that a man could even be that thin before that day. Thin and bloodied and all torn up, yet still alive.

And still so frail. Heck, recently they had both watched the other nearly die, Xan trapped by the spider in the Cloakwood, and her happily skipping towards an oni scant hours ago.

Of course Xan had filled out quite a bit since the day they found him hanging in the Nashkel mines, though he was still the thinnest man she had ever known. His limbs were long and delicate-looking, his waste slender and his features slight, though there was no hint of fat to him, and she knew from experience that he was stronger than he looked, both from watching him swing the moonblade and all the times he had held her up with little effort.

The raised flesh from Mulahey's flails was still visible across his slight musculature, but you had to know they were there and truly look to make them out on his pale, hairless skin. Smooth as a statue, besides the little patches of scars. It certainly made him appear quite exotic, along with that odd little feature she had noticed when they first met. Living all her life in a cramped space with mostly men, Imoen had seen quite a bit of male anatomy, but Xan looked so different from those fellows. Between the lack of hair and hood he seemed doubly naked.

Yet now that the robes were set aside (he still couldn't bring himself to toss them around,) Xan strode over to her with a bit more confidence than he had shown a moment ago. Funny how that worked. Out of his shell.

A slender hand rested on her shoulder and they shared a silent look. I must seem as exotic to him. All soft and round: face, breasts, belly, hips, thighs and all. Not to mention that I'm a girl. As she understood it he had little experience with women, and he was so difficult to read sometimes. Distant. Sullen.

But he was smiling ever-so-softly now, and a downward glance showed her that that exotic part of his had stirred to life. Well, guess that's all I need to know! A deeper blush and a giddy grin bloomed on her face all at once, coupled with a fluttering in her stomach. Was nice to see that she could have that kind of effect on Mr. Tidy, In Control and Put Together.

Imoen took a trembling breath, put on her the boldest smile she could muster, and took his hand in hers. Together they stepped to the side and into the tub, sinking down into the warm water. Knee to knee and still a little shy, they passed the sponge between them, taking turns sopping up the water and cautiously scrubbing. Washing off the smell of a sewer. What a romantic way to start the evening! He was still smiling though, as he traced his way along her shoulder with the sponge. A warm smile. That rarest of sights.

Well, I'll take what I can get. And best to do the taking before one of us really gets eaten by an oni or a giant spider.

By degrees the dirt and sweat of a long day washed off, and by degrees the scrubbing grew bolder. By degrees lips found each other and fingers sought new surfaces to explore, the sponge eventually forgotten.

Standing at the ready with your sword out while you wait for your cue to 'look menacing' is a really boring job.

Boring and nerve-wracking. You have to keep your ambush-face on while you watch the door; it just wouldn't do to get caught yawning. But while you're holding that pose time slows to a crawl, the empty minutes drag by, and you start to wonder if anything will ever actually bloody-fucking happen!

And perhaps if nothing happened it would be for the best. Aren't normal people grateful when a lifetime passes without any terrifying moments of tension and violence? Skie sure looked bored too. Maybe-

The door stirred and Ashura raised her sword, careful to keep the edge well in front of the hostage's neck. For the sake of a 'good show' she also grabbed the girl by her bound-up hair and yanked back a bit, eliciting a squeak.

"Yowch!"

Shar-Teel had her blades out as well, longsword pointed at the wary man who stepped over the threshold and gave them a glare. He had the gruff look of someone military, dressed in a plain brown gambeson, his greying hair hewn down to no-nonsense stubble and a sword hanging from his hip. There was a heavy looking leather satchel under his arm that drew Ashura's eyes immediately.

And there it is.

Eldoth entered close behind, flanked by Viconia's shrouded form, her violet eyes sharp and blazing beneath her cowl.

More quick glares around the room, then the stranger's eyes honed in on the hostage. "Lady Skie," he stated in a controlled voice. "Are you unharmed?"

Skie gave a weak little nod. "M-mostly, Mr. Elkart. They beat me, and t-they've said such awful, awful things but I'm…I'm intact." Her lower lip trembled and there were tears in her eyes.

Maybe Garrick and her can start a new company, Ashura mused.

"And she will remain that way," Eldoth cut in. "Provided you do nothing foolish, and payment is forthcoming."

Elkart gave a slight nod and slid the satchel off his shoulder, carefully holding it out and bracing it against his stomach. It looked impressively heavy. Once the sturdy leather flaps parted the distinct gleam of gold showed through in the lamplight. "As agreed upon. Ten golden trade bars. A ransom befitting a princess."

Heavy and hefty. Those things were worth around seven hundred gold each, depending on exact weight. Eldoth reached out for the satchel and the dour man pulled it back. "The hostage first. I must insist."

"First a taste of the gold," Shar-Teel snarled. "Do you think we're idiots?"

The look that briefly crossed Elkart's face suggested to Ashura that yes, he very much did. Then he was back to being controlled and unreadable.

Ashura grimaced. There it is again. That tingly sensation she always seemed to get when everything was about to go to the Hells. More and more familiar every time. And strangely enough it was…thrilling.

"I must insist…" Elkart was saying.

"You may insist all you wish," Edloth countered, taking a step forward, "but it will not change the fact that you are in a very bad bargaining position." His next words were singsong, a trilling hum that pulsed forward as the other man tried to draw his sword, freezing in place halfway through as a shimmer ran over him.

Next Eldoth easily snatched the satchel from Elkart's hands, then stepped even closer. For a moment Ashura thought he was about to draw his dagger and stab the paralyzed man, but instead Eldoth placed his lips right by the man's ear and whispered something that made Elkart's eyes widen and Viconia snicker. Then the bard turned and hefted the bag of trade bars onto his shoulder, casually strolling towards the open window.

Ashura had let her sword drop by now, and Skie took a step towards Eldoth, cocking her head with a quizzical look on her face. "What did you tell him?"

"Nothing to worry your pretty head over," he said with a pat to her shoulder before passing her by. Wordlessly he mounted the windowsill and slipped out of sight, climbing down as fast as he could.

With the bag full of gold bars over his shoulder.

"Shit!" Ashura hissed, putting her sword away as fast as she could and rushing to the window.

If Eldoth was going to slip off with all the gold, now would be the perfect time. He even had an invisibility spell that they had seen him use regularly. Maybe this was even the big 'heist' he had in mind all along, when he had made his introductions in the Cloakwood.

Shar-Teel was right behind her, catching on and grumbling too. "That slimy little fucker!" Together they scrambled through the window and swung out on the ropes, descending as fast as they could; first scurrying and then sliding down and dropping. It stung hard when Ashura's boots smacked the street, but she quickly recovered and sprung forward with both swords free.

After a few steps through the darkness she caught sight of the bard, further down one of the branching alleyways and standing still beside some cracked and toppled barrels. Not invisible and not running at all.

"Eldoth!" she hissed anyway. "Don't you fucking move!"

He did move, but it was backwards. Gaining ground, Ashura saw what he was retreating from a heartbeat later, just around the barrels. Four armored figures, a woman and three men, were advancing with heavy crossbows in hand.

Moving as one, the soldiers took a knee and then took aim, a fifth one in heavier armor appearing behind the little line with his arms crossed at his chest. And on that chest, and on the tabards of the other four as well, was the sigil of the Flaming Fist.

Eldoth, you idiot! You said you'd checked for traps like this! Of course, how could you make sure no one was watching the inn from a distance? It had been a stupid, stupid plan from the start.

Another step backwards, and then Eldoth let out a frustrated sigh. "This really is a big misunder-" he began, then suddenly his voice shifted to a musical chant. "Umbrial visi-"

The thump-thump of two crossbow bolts being loosed echoed off the stone walls, and the bard's spell died on his lips, along with the shimmer that had started to envelope him. Instead he let out a wheeze and dropped to his knees, a panicked shriek rising up behind them. Skie had reached the ground and was running forward, ignoring the soldiers as she rushed for Eldoth.

Acting on instinct, Ashura and Shar-Teel fanned out to opposite walls of the alleyway, and Ashura began to stalk forward, trusting in her boots.

The bowmen who had fired were attempting to reload and wind their crossbows as the imposing soldier behind them began to bark orders. "Remember," he shouted, "we need the girl alive at all costs!"

"Uh," one of the soldiers spoke up, "which one's the girl? I mean, they're all…"

Ashura and Shar-Teel shared a glance.

"She's the-"

The rest of his orders were drowned out by the tapping of Ashura and Shar-Teel's boots as they charged, along with the thump of the two remaining crossbows. As usual the sense that a bead had been drawn on her precluded the swish of the flying bolt by a hair or less, and Ashura managed to tilt her shoulders, feeling something brush against her chainmail as it flew by.

Shar-Teel was not so lucky. She let out a grunt as the bolt struck her mail coat, but it didn't seem to slow her. The grunt became a growl, and then a howl of rage, joined a moment later by a scream of pain from one of the Fist soldiers as she collided with the line.

And then Ashura crashed into the unit from the other side, face to face with a scowling Fist woman in a plumed half-helm. The soldier swung her crossbow like an awkward club to fend off the charge, but Ashura caught and steered it by with a swipe of her sword. A twist, and then the scowl on the woman's face turned to wide-eyed terror as Ashura's second blade plunged through the chainmail that protected the soldier's neck and the throat beneath.

A kick and a spray of arterial blood followed as the woman toppled backwards. The man behind her had the good sense to drop his crossbow and yank his sword free, but Ashura managed to catch the blade before he had gotten into a true fencing stance, locking it with her righthand sword while the left stabbed in and up beneath his ribs.

A stumble backwards, and then the man went limp and dropped, clearing the way for Ashura to witness Shar-Teel hack through the fourth archer's neck and cleave his head clean from his shoulders.

On the other side of the alley Viconia had her warhammer out and was exchanging blows with the Flaming Fist officer, easily dancing away from his clumsy slashes. Shadows swirled around the drow in a vague facsimile of armor, and there was a faint green glow hanging over her opponent, his pallor unnaturally pale and veins standing out as he poured sweat. Magical poison, by Ashura's guess. She had seen the drow employ that spell before.

They both raced towards the officer, but Shar-Teel made it first, lunging and running him through from behind. Once he had slipped off the sword and crumpled to the ground the alley fell eerily silent.

And that was that. Five dead city guards sprawled out on the cobbles in spreading pools of blood. Ugh. Ashura reached up and touched her mask, glad that it was still in place. Hopefully if they fled now…

"Please! Someone help!" Skie shouted, her voice echoing through the street as she knelt over Eldoth. The flights of two crossbow bolts could be seen sticking out of his torso, close together and beneath the ribs. With trembling hands Skie clasped a potion bottle over him, but she seemed at a loss.

"Keep your voice down!" Ashura hissed as she stomped towards them, her dripping swords leaving a trail.

"Sorry," Skie replied in a frantic whisper. "But I don't know how to…he's unconscious. How do I make him drink?" Viconia and Shar-Teel had slipped in beside Ashura now, and Skie looked up to the drow, eyes wide and pleading. "You're a priestess right? You can heal him!"

Viconia simply crossed her arms over her chest. "Whyever would I do that? The Nightsinger does not grant her gifts out of kindness." Her masked face swiveled towards Ashura. "This is the perfect opportunity to cut loses and loose ends, and leave this place wealthier for it. You know this."

Shar-Teel knelt down without hesitation as the drow spoke, wrenching the heavy satchel from Eldoth's still fingers while her other hand pressed at her own wound. The bolt seemed to have fallen out, and apparently it had not gone deep.

Eyes narrowing, Ashura looked to the drow, then to Skie. "Wh-what are you talking about?" the girl stammered, big doe eyes rimmed with tears.

It was damn tempting. Ten gold tradebars split three ways. But had Eldoth even been running away, or had that just been her and Shar-Teel's paranoia? And the girl…

Ashura looked back towards Viconia. "Get him on his feet. Now."

"Really-"

"Really!" Ashura hissed, swords still in hand and rising a bit. "Now. Before this fucking alley fills up with Fists. We need to go! And these two are coming with us. So heal him. Now!"

"Yes alur," Viconia conceded, her face unreadable beneath the cowl as she knelt and held her hands over Eldoth. "The bolts will need…"

Without a word or hesitation, Ashura sheathed her swords, knelt down and took a crossbow bolt in each hand. She almost pulled, then paused and looked to Skie. "Gag him."

"Wha-"

"Gag him, or we leave him. Your cape'll work."

Skie seemed to catch on, twisting up an edge of her hooded cloak and pressing it against the unconscious man's mouth. Then everything happened at once: a violent tug from Ashura, a fountain of blood from the wounds, a half-conscious and muffled wail of agony from Eldoth, and Viconia's hands pressing in and glowing with faint blue light. For good measure Ashura snatched the healing potion from the spot where Skie had placed it and knocked the cork off with her thumb, pouring a little of the liquid through the twin holes in Eldoth's shirt once Viconia's hands had slipped away.

"Make him drink the rest of the potion as soon as he seems conscious enough," Ashura ordered, handing the vial back to Skie. Then, without waiting for anyone to protest or recover, Ashura shoved Eldoth up onto his feet and steadied him as best she could, Shar-Teel reluctantly helping to shoulder the tall man from the other side. From there they managed to stumble down the alley and along the street, leaving the corpses behind.

And the paralyzed man up in the bedroom, who would recover at any moment. Gods, what a mess.

The cry of release that had been building for what seemed like hours arrived at last, and with it Imoen flung her head back, singing. Beneath her the feather bed was oh so soft, enveloping; the crown of her head scraping and scraping against its surface. Above her the elven man's narrow body was oh so firm, rigid and insistent.

She clung to his sharp shoulders, her thighs a vice pressed to his rolling hips as she let out cry after cry. One more tense and clenching shudder, then everything went soft and she sank back against the sheets.

There was still plenty of tension to him though, and the headboard smacked against the bedroom wall again and again and again, one sweet thrust following another. All of Xan's typical control was gone from his voice as he gasped frantically against her cheek. "Oh! Oh! Oh!"

It was such a sweet sound: no stuffy robes, no pretense, no sarcasm, no distance; just him as he truly was beneath.

The headboard and the wall kept tapping, a few more sweet shudders racing through her, and then he stopped and let out another cry right by her ear. From there she felt him slacken, breathing hard and sinking down on top of her, hips shifting slightly then growing still. She slid her hands down and cupped his narrow, flat little behind, clinging on as the deep breaths rolled on and on.

Moments later, once he was breathing a little more evenly, Xan slid away, a gentle hand disengaging her thighs so that he could roll over and sit up on the bed. Back turned to her, he reached down to remove the lambskin sheath he had been wearing.

Imoen reached over towards him, feeling her way in the dark and placing a hand on his hip. "Get back here you!" she demanded.

He turned around and happily slid down against her. "Of course."

The reassuring pressure of his body was back again and his smooth skin there for her to rest her hands upon. And all was right with the world. She planted a kiss on his cheek, fingers fluttering against the points of his ears.

Shura had warned her that the first time she probably wouldn't feel much, and it might even hurt, but thankfully that prediction had been wrong. Maybe it was the fact that he had taken his sweet, sweet time; agonizing at points, awkward and shy and testing at others, but worth it in the end. Or maybe it was an elven thing. And of course she was a little sore. How many hours had it been? Thanks to the magic ring she still wore she could make out his form in the darkness, but it seemed to be the deepest hour of the night.

"Yer gonna lay right here, right?" she whispered in his ear. "No standing around and staring out windows?"

"Of course. There is nowhere else I would rather be."

"Goodie! See, the seventeen gold for a room here was totally worth it."

"The bed certainly is soft."

"Oh it is huh?" She wiggled beneath him, adjusting and relaxing. "I worry sometimes that I can't compete with firm, chiseled, elven beauty." Giving his backside an affectionate pat, she rested her hand there once again.

He chuckled, warm breath against her cheek. "You have quite a thing for fishing for complements." A gentle kiss. "I will simply say that it is the softest and loveliest bed I have ever rested upon."

"Taking complement lessons from Coran now are you?"

"It is simply the truth." Another kiss. "I really do adore your bright spirit," and another, "soft curves," and another, "and nimble mind."

"Aww." That had her trying to think of a compliment to come back with, and failing. Ah well. Laying here like this in silence would work just fine. Nowhere else I would rather be.

With a creak and a bang the door flew open, flooding the bedroom with light from the hall.

Before she even realized what she was doing Imoen had grabbed her dagger off the nightstand, and Xan had flipped off of her, hands raised in a gesture that she recognized as the beginning of a stunning spell as energy surged at the tips of his fingers. He held it back, however, glaring at the intruder.

"Ims," a familiar voice called from the open doorway as Imoen's eyes blinked back the light. "We need to go!" A pause. "Urm…uh. Woops!"

Not an assassin. Just an obnoxious friend with no sense of boundaries. Ugh. I must not have locked the door. "You could have knocked!" Imoen complained.

Ashura rubbed her arm awkwardly, looking about as bashful as she was capable of and briefly glancing away. "Yeah. Sorry." She was still dressed in her chainmail, along with her helmet and traveling pack. "But we still need to go."

"I really should release this spell," Xan muttered.

Imoen sat up and rubbed her frazzled head. "Go? Like…skip town?"

"Yep. Fast."

With a pout on her face Imoen scooted to the edge of the bed. "It's Shar-Teel isn't it?"

"You'd think so, but no. Eldoth's lying in the stables with some deep crossbow wounds, Skie's hysterical, and the Flaming Fist is probably hunting for them both. Not to mention they're being looked after by Viconia. If someone stumbles onto a drow tending to a wounded criminal…"

"Can we simply turn them over to the authorities then?" Xan asked hopefully. "Or the conman at the very least?"

"Tempting, but we might have to explain what happened to a very large bag of gold if we do that."

Xan slid to the edge of the bed. "Your prime motivation shows through, I see," he noted sarcastically.

Ashura stood firm, trying to hold back a smirk as she gave him an appreciative sweep of her eyes. "We're mercenaries. Might as well act like it."

"Captain Kagain would be proud."

"And there's also the matter of a dead patrol of guards…" Ashura admitted.

Xan sighed. "Of course there is. I would expect no less from you." He stood, shaking his head. "Well, that is certainly a reason to slip away." A pause as he glanced around the room. "There would not happen to be a wicker basket sitting by the door? I should hate to go on the run from the law without my favorite robe."

The maids had been polite enough to knock, at least, and when they were told to go away one of them had said something about leaving their laundered and mended clothing at the door. Ashura hauled the basket in and then went to the hall to pace while Xan and Imoen cleaned up and dressed as quickly as they could.

Stepping into her worn cloth trousers, Imoen found that they were fresh and crisp, and the holes in her socks had even been sewn up. Such service! She wasn't looking forward to sleeping on the hard ground again.

"Really sorry about this," Ashura muttered as they finally stepped out into the hall. "My mess, I know."

"My choice to follow you," Xan replied. "To my doom." There was a hint of a grin on his face, and the girls from Candlekeep shared a look as he shifted into the lead and they crept through the sleeping inn.

Ashura raised an eyebrow at her friend, a look somewhere between pride and wicked mirth on her face.

Dern. Imoen had hoped that Shura would find out about all this the normal way, maybe over tea the next time they had morningfeast together. Ah well. She wasn't going to let a little thing like a midnight flight from the law bring her down! Nosir!

Imoen raised an eyebrow and grinned right back at her friend, adding a wink for good measure. Then Ashura snickered, Imoen giggled, and Xan sighed at them both.

Author's Note: Technically an old fashioned condom would be made from lamb intestines, but 'lambskin' seemed like the way people would politely put it.

And an aside: Although I really like how Xan and Imoen kind of fell into place, I actually toyed with the idea of pairing Xan with Ajantis for a while, though sadly Ajantis' tenancy to leap in the way of danger put an end to that. I still kind of like the idea; in the game they're both of ambiguous sexuality and bicker with each other. Maybe one day if I have the time and inclination I'll go back and write my ridiculous Ajantis/Xan slashfic.