Misfortunes have their life and their limits, their

sickness and their health. We undo ourselves by

impatience. -- Michel de Motaigne

CHAPTER SIX

Surprise, Surprise

That morning, Vendice felt a particular need to address a small prayer to Oghma, the God whose ways she had been taught in Candlekeep and the supposed patron of bards, among other things. She was certain Imoen would always do that in the morning, though how exactly a rogue like her was comfortable with such a deity remained somewhat a mystery. (At least it gave a measure of justification to the interest in magic she had been expressing lately.)

The bard didn't pray, though; she stopped where she always did – at the simple thought of it. To her, it seemed naive to think that some divine entity would stop and listen to the praises and pleas of a single follower (unless they were a priest and, as such, very important for the fact that they spread the word and brought others to the faith). Besides, two equally worthy people could pray to the same God and ask for two opposite things to happen; then, what would the deity do? That reasoning had brought Vendice to the firm conviction that the Gods decided what aid they provided regardless of how much their followers prayed and much more likely in relation with what they did. Prayer was, therefore, a simple resort of weaker spirits, who felt safer through it; she didn't need to pray, only to stick to the proper code of conduct... whichever that was.

Shrugging and dismissing the matter once again, Vendice made her way out of the room and stopped to knock on Imoen's door. The redhead came to open it with some delay, but greeted her warmly with a broad welcoming smile; she looked funny with the comb stuck in a difficult portion of her hair and left hanging. It vividly reminded Vendice of the difficulties she had experienced with her own mane a bit earlier.

"Jaheira and Khalid have gone shopping," Imoen announced as she returned to the mirror and resumed her combing. "Said we need food for the road."

"Well, many thanks to them for letting me know," Vendice replied moodily, flopping seated in a chair.

"Why?" Imoen replied. "Whatcha need?"

"I told you all yesterday," the bard grumbled. "I'd like to buy a musical instrument."

"I could go with ya," the thief offered, checking herself out in the mirror. Satisfied with the result, she placed the comb down.

"Yes, and thank you," Vendice was quick to reply, having been expecting her friend's suggestion. "But we don't know Beregost like they do, which means we'll waste more time. They could have just waited for us."

Imoen giggled. "Maybe they just wanted some time alone."

Vendice was about to rebuff that, as well, when she noticed the redhead had produced an unfamiliar purse from her backpack. And the few small objects she was pulling out...

"Where did you get those?"

"Remember that rich-looking lady who stepped on my foot when we got here?" Imoen asked nonchalantly, with a small grin.

Vendice eyed the make-up kit; she and Imoen liked to play with those, but they saw ever so few of them back in Candlekeep. The rogue noticed her looks and her grin widened.

"I'll give ya some," she offered, beginning to head for the door. "But you'll have to catch me first!" And with that, she darted out of the room.

Smiling, suddenly in a much better mood, Vendice sprang out of her seat and hurried to chase her friend along the corridor and down the stairs, into the common room.

Montaron surveyed the table with a critical eye, trying to see what they had been offered for breakfast. Bread... eggs... cheese... cold steak from the other day... fresh milk... The halfling slapped Xzar's hand away in time, before the necromancer could dip his finger in the white substance. Then, grumbling, he grabbed the pitcher and filled a mug for himself and one for the mage. Now the fool could do whatever he wanted with his share.

He was just about to take a bite of bread and cheese when that annoying red-haired brat drifted by and snatched a roll for herself, managing to spill his milk in the process.

"Sorry," she giggled cheerfully, then sprinted for the door and made the quickest exit the halfling had seen.

Immediately after that, but just late enough to have missed the door closing behind her friend, the other girl, the blond one, found her way down the stairs, tripping over the lowest step and stumbling forward. She regained her balance soon enough and and stopped to scan the room, undoubtedly looking for the brat; not finding her, she made her way over to their table, casting an awkward glance to Xzar who was just mixing small pieces of steak into his milk.

Montaron was rather busy drying the portion of table in front of him with a rag he had been using for a napkin, but he still found time to glare at her, conveying the message that she wasn't welcome there.

"What d'ye want?" he asked gruffly, setting the rag aside and resuming breakfast.

"Where... did she... go?" the girl – Vendice, aye, that was her name – demanded, still catching her breath.

"Out," Montaron replied between two bites; that was as much as he would bother and, if she expected any help searching, then she was wasting her time.

"She can wait," Vendice muttered, then she turned to face Xzar, waiting for the necromancer to notice.

The mage, however, was quite concentrated on his current activity and the girl had to whistle loudly. Only then did he stop; he withdrew his hands to his lap and looked up at her calmly.

"What were you doing in my room last night?" Vendice inquired, apparently trying her best at patience.

"Why, I was following that thief around and he went there," the answer came from Xzar on an unusually serious tone.

Well, this looked interesting; maybe not useful, but no doubt amusing. Montaron continued to eat, but pricked up his ears no less.

"Following him around," Vendice echoed incredulously. "I see. And, if I may know, why would you be doing that?"

"To learn the tricks of the trade, of course," Xzar beamed proudly.

"And you didn't care he was trying to steal my possessions?"

Xzar shook his head and Montaron simply had to snort, which earned him a sharp glare from Vendice.

"I guess I understand why he didn't mind your presence, then," the girl sighed, then her attention returned fully to Montaron. "Be here when I return or we'll leave without you."

The halfling watched her depart and didn't bother to give a reply; she should know he didn't care, anyway. They were all headed for Nashkel and, as such, likely to meet again even if she did leave by herself.

"Monty!" Xzar interrupted him in an irritatingly high-pitched voice.

"I told ye not to be callin' me that," the halfling grumbled. "What?"

The necromancer settled down again abruptly and cleared his throat with self-importance. "I believe the two fussy half-elves to be Harpers."

Montaron nearly choked on his next bite and eyed the mage awkwardly. "Ye'd best not be ramblin'," he warned. "What's yer proof of that?"

"I overheard them speaking of a letter they must send," Xzar offered his argument. "In which they would express certain suspicions of our own... allegiance."

"Curses," Montaron muttered. "And they be headin' for Nashkel, same as we. Keep an eye on 'em, mage."

"A sound plan, Montaron," the necromancer seemed to think he cared about getting his approval. "But perhaps we should secure some supplies of our own, just in case?"

"Aye," the halfling nodded grimly. "An' I know just the place. But I ain't movin' anywhere 'till I be done eating."

Xzar shrugged and his prolonged attention span was lost again.

Imoen had run a long way and turned quite a few corners, enjoying the feel of the wind in her hair and clothes and taking occasional bites of bread which did not go well with her stomach in such a rush. She was in front of a homely-looking establishment marked as the Jovial Juggler when she finally noticed she had lost Vendice completely. Stopping, she began to retrace her steps, taking her time, when a familiar figure came right in front of her from around the corner.

"Garrick!" the girl gasped, then, realizing it had probably been a bit out of place, she flushed. "Erm... heya."

He seemed to be scanning the area, probably for her other companions, but when he spotted nothing a broad smile came across his lips.

"You are assuredly a sight for sore eyes, Imoen," he said pleasantly, taking a small bow, apparently very proud of the fact that he could remember her name.

Imoen giggled. "How're ya doing?"

"Well enough," the young man replied. "How about yourself? I trust your friend's mood has improved? Last night she had gone mad over some injury she claimed you had suffered... but I am glad to see you in good health."

She let him finish, nodding patiently. She kind of liked his air of self-importance, the natural way he adopted it.

"We fought a bounty hunter," she cheerfully explained. "This one got me, but I'll get better at the fighting thing and then they'll see!"

By the time she was done, Garrick's lips had spread into a broad grin. Shaking his head, he began to climb the short staircase in front of the Jovial Juggler, his eyes not leaving the redhead as they twinkled with amusement.

"Listen..." he said, a bit preoccupied. "I'm supposed to meet some friends here and I'm late... Maybe you'd like to have a drink with us?"

He liked her; internally, Imoen was beaming proudly. The only problem was Vendice... but the thief was sure her friend could find her way around all by herself.

"Sure," she agreed, tagging along."

She was up for eternal moodiness from her sister, but it didn't really matter right then.

Sighing, Eleris watched the thick, sturdy rope as it was being passed on from one paladin to the other, then he traced its length with his eyes, down to his bound wrists. He stared at that, standing docilely to the side and waiting for the long moment to be over in a dramatic pose, which he imagined as the epitome of martyrdom. He avoided a direct glance at the other two. Watching Ajantis take off his boots in order to relieve them of gravel and other such nuisances was the last thing he would have liked to be doing. If only the bonds weren't so strong and he could at least hope to wrestle his hands out of them. But no. Them paladins had had to go and do the job properly.

Of course, this was nothing new. After all, it was only the fifth time in two weeks that Ajantis had caught him stealing. All due to a strange – and extremely annoying – set of coincidences, which only made it even worse an ordeal.

"Hey, Ajantis," he began conversationally, bringing his eyes back up when he heard the man stand back to his feet to test his boots.

"What?" came a pretty disinterested response, tinged with a disappointingly small amount of irritation.

Eleris made sure his grin was as smug-looking as possible when he gestured toward the bushes nearby. "Nature calls, you know."

Ajantis rolled his eyes insensibly, but his friend looked slightly less inclined to ignore everything.

"Maybe we could untie one hand?" the other paladin offered. His name was Pais, if Eleris could recall well. "As long as one of us still holds the rope, we'll know it in time if he tries to escape."

"Just don't mind him," Ajantis replied, glaring at their prisoner. "He'll survive."

"But--" Pais looked genuinely surprised.

"Aw," Eleris interrupted nonchalantly. "Don't worry; Ajantis is just annoyed because he fell for this trick last time and lost me."

The two paladins exchanged a few exasperated glances before setting back in motion. Eleris, of course, had no other choice than to follow... or was it?

He gave a forceful tug at the rope, Pais' hands jerked forward, his grip lost some strength and... Ajantis was there to grab on and save the day. Then he slipped on a small rock and crashed straight into his friend; both went tumbling down in a pile and Eleris was free just as he thought his attempt had failed.

"Sound move, Ajantis," he adapted immediately and couldn't keep from poking some fun while he scurried away as uncomfortably quick as possible with his hands tied. The two still had a great chance to catch up, even despite the hindering weight of their plating.

Eleris left the road and sought shelter with a small group of trees, constantly glancing behind him to check on the paladins. He hid behind a large trunk, with the intention of skipping over to the next, unseen, only... he crashed into something else as he was turning from one of his clumsy attempts to get rid of the ropes while running. The force of the impact propelled him back against the tree he had just left and a surge of pain crossed his back sharply.

"How sweet," he said lamely as he stared up straight into the dumb eyes of an ogre.

Eleris was barely even conscious of his reflex, but he still vaguely found himself slipping to the ground when the ogre lurched forth, swinging a massive, crudely made morning star. The next thing he actually realized was that a rain of splinters and rind was pouring into his hair, while the dim-witted creature had chosen to try and extract its morning star from where it was lodged in the tree's trunk, right above his head. He was lucky ogres weren't too bright; had it really wanted to crush him, which it probably did, this one would have been perfectly able to just tread upon his chest, since it comfortably rested a bare inch away from the oversized feet.

Rationally, Eleris knew he was supposed to be crawling away quickly, before the creature either actually got that idea or simply managed to free the weapon. But the truth was panic had frozen him entirely. He could very well stare and think of the many unappealing possibilities in the blink of an eye; actually moving to avoid them was a whole other deal. Finally, the ogre managed to pull its morning star free, it swung back for another bludgeoning strike and... it was then that Ajantis' shouts reached its ears and distracted it.

The ogre went tramping after the two arriving paladins and Eleris was left in peace to swallow a dry lump in his throat. He was so very relieved to see Ajantis and Pais... enough so that he passed out, succumbing to sweet oblivion.

When he came back to his senses, his hands weren't bound anymore and his wrists throbbed with the flow of blood trying to re-establish its normal course. Instead, the ropes now kept his legs together, all the way up to the knees; no one could possibly hope to untie that in less than three times more minutes it would take the paladins to notice the effort.

Speaking of... Eleris sought the two out with his eyes and found them close enough, at the base of a small cliff. Ajantis was just helping a limping Pais to get settled down in the grass so that he could take a look at the wound, whichever that was. Eleris didn't care much about that. What he stared intently at were the two girdles dangling from Ajantis' arm under the shape of oversized bracelets.

"Hey!"

When he didn't get any attention, Eleris let out a sharp whistle, which immediately brought him the glare of a reproachful Ajantis.

"What?!" came the paladin's exasperated snap.

"You know," Eleris accompanied his words with a groan caused by his attempt to inch closer to the two, so that he wouldn't have to speak so loud. "You guys are broke. And so am I..." – he lowered his voice to a small mutter – "...Also thanks to you."

"This really isn't the best time for your whining, elf," Ajantis dismissed him immediately, meaning to return to his companion, who looked like he was in a considerable deal of pain.

"I'm not whining," Eleris protested in a fake hurt tone. "But I heard talk of an ogre that takes girdles and belts from travelers. Back at the Friendly Arm... there was this guy named Unshey who said he'd pay some gold if someone were to return his Girdle of Piercing."

"These are the only ones that looked magical," Ajantis replied, shoving his two looted objects toward the thief.

Both girdles fell somewhere between his spot and theirs. Eleris stared intently at them, vaguely aware of the healing incantation Ajantis was reciting to help Pais. Finally, he looked back just in time to see the two heading up to retrieve the objects, Pais in good condition once more.

"It's the thinner one, made from intertwined, delicate strands of leather," Eleris announced when they were by his side.

"And this one?" Ajantis waved the other girdle in front of him.

The elf looked more carefully. It was broader and thicker, clumsily dyed and overall just not Eleris' kind of gear, but no doubt imbued with magic as well.

"I'm not sure what that does, but I think it's powerful," the thief mused insecurely, frowning a little and continuing to stare into space with narrowed eyes.

"Well, let's see."

By the time Eleris snapped back from his thoughts and into reality, Ajantis had already unbuckled his old girdle and was replacing it with the new one. Humans could be so brash sometimes it was a wonder they still existed at all. Eleris really hadn't said 'powerful' meant 'beneficial'.

"I would advise against--" he began to warn the idiot, but...

The clasp was shut and, by the Seldarine, the effects were immediate. Eleris watched the impossibly quick transfiguration, lines and curves fading into new shapes, and realized what was happening a few moments before it was complete. He felt so much laughter build in his chest in one instant that there was no hope of controlling the fit; he doubled over as best he could, shaken by chuckles and rapidly losing all semblance of breath, while the stupefied expressions of the two paladins only fueled his amusement.

"Ajantis..." Pais finally gasped in shock horror. "I... I think you just turned into a woman."