Chapter 6
(In which we see how Edwin's attempt at bargaining went horribly wrong. But all is not lost, and Edwin succeeds in charming the pants off a gasping concubine. Sort of. Sarevok and Anomen face an identity crisis.)
Subtitle:
"If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!"
Featuring:
Elminster the Mage (also known as Retsnimle, the humble trader)
And
Lilarcor the Talking Sword (also known as Larry)
Standard disclaimer:
Lilracor voiceover:
(silence) …. (murmuring sounds are heard) …. (followed by coughing sounds) …What?! (Lilarcor sighs) What do you want, now? (whispering) Ooooh, I get it… (indignant) So I can only talk when you tell me to. (huffs) Well, fine! I don't have your fancy edumecation, but I'm no dullard! I have things of importance to say. Intelligent, meaningful things… (pauses) So, I'm a bit on the dull side, now, but that's not my fault! Talk to the big lug that can't remember to sharpen me every once in a while. (whines) I have more nicks on me than a Rashemani Ranger's head…
The narrator takes over…
That will be all, thank you. (to the audience) We apologize for the inconvenience. Now to the actual disclaimer… (clears throat) No Red Wizards of Thay have been harmed during the production of this motion picture. An occasional ego has been bruised, however. The narrator bears no responsibility for any lingering psychological side-effects that may or may not affect the owner of the above-mentioned ego… Or for idiot swords that can't follow simple instructions.
Thank you.
Lilracor: Hey! I heard that!
- A few hours earlier… Edwin approaches a group of concubines (chough-bloodsuckers-chough), practically exuding confidence, preening in a way that would put an award winning peacock to shame. Surprisingly, the wenches don't seem all that interested and continue to wait for more suitable (god-like) clientele. Edwin is, of course, oblivious -
Edwin: (rubbing his hands in a disturbingly pimp-daddy-ish sort of way – the narrator is disillusioned) Which one of you buxom young wenches shall be the first to sample the limitless charms of Edwin Odeisseron? (Careful, Edwin. That might start a stampede.) (for some inexplicable reason, it doesn't) It goes without saying that I am capable of handling more then merely one of you, but let us start off traditionally. (So to speak.)
The concubines/bloodsuckers: (the tantalizing suggestion is met by a roaring bout of indifference)
Edwin: (This is strange.) (after a pause) I see… You are undoubtedly intimidated by the famed prowess Thayvian males are said to exhibit in the bedchamber. (cue in a seductive smile) Though, I assure you, even such tales pale to insignificance when compared to the real thing. (draws up to his full, proud height) And this Thavyian male is as red-blooded as his cloak. (gives himself the once-over) (Curses! I knew that I forgot something.)
The concubines/bloodsuckers: (yawn)
Edwin: (puzzled) Hmm… They seem to have been struck speechless by the sight of my ruggedly manly, yet highly esthetically pleasing features. (Understandably so.) (to the concubines) There is no need for you young lovelies to start fighting over me. (seemingly, Edwin's observation skills have been impaired – no doubt the consequence of diminished blood flow to the brain)
The concubines/bloodsuckers: (one of the concubines on the far left gasps… at a chipped finger-nail)
Edwin: (still oblivious) Excellent! I see that we have our first candidate. Let me take a better look. (looks her over, and frowns) No, no… That will not do. (The nose on that one would make for an ideal bird-perch.) This will not do at all. (this, unfortunate, statement finally gets the concubine's attention, who now looks ready to eviscerate Edwin using only his own spellbook and a very dull quill)
The head concubine/bloodsucker: Go away! You are scaring away potential customers.
Edwin: (gold coins clink again, louder) I am a customer, wench. A paying one. And you would do well to show me some proper respect, before I lose my composure and do something unpleasant… Entirely by accident, of course. (At least where the authorities are concerned.) Obviously, you have no idea who you are addressing. If you did, you would know that it is you, not I, that should be paying for the pleasure of my company and for my incomparable services. (I have always been far too generous to those of lesser rank and breeding.)
The head concubine/bloodsucker: Put that gold away, man. You haven't enough to purchase our time.
-An indignant Edwin turns to leave… and possibly (make that probably) fireball the concubines from a safer distance (the gold thread on his tunic does not pay for itself)… when a collective oooh! sound is heard. An unidentified Bhaalspawn Barbarian (known even to the casual observer by the ever-present, but hardly practical fur loin cloth) frowns at the extra attention. Uncomfortable with being eyed like a slab of meat (in more ways than one), he silently retreats to the bar. Edwin fumes (in a not so silent manner). -
Edwin: (outraged) You prefer that to a Thayvian male of incomparable erotic skill?! A Red Wizard will not stand idly by and be insulted by your ilk. Farewell then! (Peasants.) (prepares to make a grand exit)
The head concubine: (disinterested) Yes, yes… do go away. (the unnamed Bhaalspawn disappears into the back rooms; a collective awww! sound is heard) Wait… (head snaps up, eyes widen) Did you say… wizard? A Red Wizard of Thay? (grabs Edwin's arm)
Edwin: (looks over his shoulder) Is it not obvious, wench? But, I have no need or desire to explain myself to you further. (looks to his arm and to the hand gripping it) In the unlikely case that being cursed with an embarrassing intimate disease does not appeal to you, you will let go of me. Now.
The head concubine: (takes a step back) Forgive me, my lord. (doing a 180 degrees turn in manner with considerable poise) You have nothing to explain. (bows deeply, displaying quite a bit of cleavage) It is I that owes you an explanation of our foolish behavior. You see, the sisters (gestures to the group of concubines standing behind her) and I have been placed under strict scrutiny in the past, by the local temple and its priestess. She has made demands for our expulsion from the city. As that is impossible, now (smiles), we have received standing orders from the city guard that we are only to entertain the soldiers and Gromnir's troops.
Edwin: (eyes narrow suspiciously) And why should I care about this supposed narrowing of the circle of your clientele?
The head concubine: Allow me to make amends for my earlier, unforgivable behavior. The punishments for disobeying those orders are… severe. (laying it on thick, now really milking her 20 charisma stats for all that they're worth) However… (gives Edwin a smoldering gaze) I do believe that we could make an exception in this one case. For a wizard of such magnificent… physique, I can play the odds of not being discovered. And a Thayvian, no less. ( after a meaningful pause) We have heard the tales.
Edwin: (his high wisdom stats engage in a battle of the ages with a significantly lower part of his anatomy)
The head concubine: (drawls) And we are all willing to share.
Edwin: (Edwin's brain leaks out of his ears and dribbles to a sticky puddle on the floor, waiting to be mopped up) Err… (Play this smoothly, Edwin.) Hmm… I could be persuaded to accompany you to a more private place, where we could discuss this in further detail. (Yes, that's it. Calm. Composed.)
The head concubine: (smiles, revealing somewhat sharper than usual teeth) I know just the place.
- In the present, the party is still plagued by the, now legendary, identity switch. Yes, the innkeeper has already given Volo an exclusive… from his unique perspective… as a result, some facts have been altered. In minor, insignificant ways. Really. Our heroes are as of yet blissfully unaware of this. –
Sarevok: (at the end of his wits) Will you let go of me, woman?
Raesa: (forcibly dragging him to the nearby temple) You'll thank me for this later.
Anomen: (follows on her right) Raesa! We told you what has happened, my lady. Why will you not believe what we say is true?
Raesa: What? That you are Anomen?
Sarevok: He is Anomen, you fool.
Raesa: And now, I'm supposed to believe that you are Sarevok.
Anomen: (still hopeful - ah, the enthusiasm of youth) That is correct.
Raesa: That's it! (grabs Anomen's arm) You're coming along. And after the temple priests take care of whatever Anomen is under, you and I are going to have words.
-The concubines have their way with Edwin… in an extremely dissatisfying way. –
Edwin: (from inside a dank, underground prison cell) What is the meaning of this?! Answer me! (I have been captured by vampires. How undignified.)
The head concubine/bloodsucker: (consise and to the point) We have need of a wizard. An Undead Hunter had taken our last one, before we killed her. (nods to a pile of bones in the corner of Edwin's cell). You will be turned so that you can serve our needs to the full.
Edwin: (outraged) Me? A vampire? Out of the question. (A ridiculous thought.) Perhaps you are unaware of this (you pissant undead louts), but I am a Red Wizard of Thay. A red wizard. The said color matches my complexion perfectly, and, since I have no desire to undergo a wardrobe change at any time in the near future, I will have to pass on your kind offer. (Yes, that's it. Perfectly reasonable.) The pallor of a vampire would clash terribly with my chosen apparel. (Not to mention the glaring cliché.)
The head concubine/bloodsucker: (frowns) What? (after a pause) You have no say in the matter. Our need for a competent wizard is great – as are our resources. Perhaps this one morsel of information will further the acceptance of your fate. A thief has recently come into the possession of an enormously valuable spell-book, full of rare and powerful scrolls. We will aquire it - steps have been made to that effect. (shakes head) It is a shame that the wizard that possessed it cannot cast a spell to save his life. That spell-book will be given to you after your transformation, and after you have proven your loyalty to me.
Edwin: Rare scrolls, you say? (forgetting all about his current predicament) I must get my hands on that spell-book! It will be mine! (As I am the only wizard worthy of possessing it.)
The head concubine/bloodsucker: (smiles) We are in agreement, than?
Edwin: (dazed) Unlimited power at my fingertips…
The head concubine/bloodsucker: (snaps) Are we in agreement?
Edwin: Must I be constantly interrupted? (sighs) Very well. If you insist, I will answer your less than astute question. How to put this in simple, unoffending terms? (pretends to think) No. Not if you were the owner of the last existing scroll on Faerun. (considers) Well, perhaps if that were the case, I could be persuaded to take over the role of an advisor (And a still breathing one at that.)
The head concubine/bloodsucker: Fortunately for us then, your consent is not necessary. (to the vampires behind her) Search him for spell components. (a shadowed figure steps forward eagerly form the rear, but is met with a decisive shake of the head) Not you.
Edwin: I will not stand here and be searched like some common thug. (indignant) I demand satisfaction! (after a pointed look from the concubines) Err… perhaps not.
- Jaheira, Minsc and Elminster watch Reasa drag the two unwilling men into the temple, the door slamming shut behind her –
Jaheira: (frustrated) She will not listen to reason!
Elminster: (in a soothing tone of voice) Worry not, Jaheira. The effects of the spell will pass, in time. I would have helped, but your young charge seemed determined to… What was the expression? 'Gut me if I so much as breathed on her'?
Jaheira: (apologetic) She is young. And under a lot of strain.
Elminster: Tis true. I expected as much. (serious) The blood holds sway over her, too much so.
Jaheira: (uncomfortable) Some sway, yes. But she fights it. (straightens) And she will continue fighting it, I will make sure of it. We stand as one, to the end.
Elminster: (thoughtful) And if the balance of the Realms suffers as a result?
Jaheira: (resolute) It will not.
Elminster: (nods after a thoughtful moment and continues to watch the temple door in silence)
Minsc: (after Boo's in-depth explanation) Oooh! Minsc understands now. Sarevok is Anomen, and Anomen is Sarevok. (stops) But, why do they look the same?
Boo: (sigh)
- Back to Edwin's predicament –
Edwin: (pacing the length of his cell) Now that you've made sure that my undergarments concealed no spare spell components (as if I would risk breaking into a rash there), or any additional wands of power… (raises eyebrow) …of the conventional kind, I would like to pose a question that begs to be asked. Is all of this really necessary?! (gestures to his general state of undress with shackled hands) (The sheer indignity.)
A random concubine/bloodsucker: Quiet, wizard! You have no say here. Consider yourself fortunate that you can be of use to us, instead, and be grateful that you even posses your groveling life. For however short a time. (walks away)
Edwin: (nonplused) The Handmaiden of Lolth manual, "How to discipline the male worm: in ten easy to follow steps" is finally in distribution outside of the Underdark, I take it? Come to think of it, the slave quarters in Ust Natha do share some disturbing similarities with my new luxurious abode. (with dripping sarcasm) How thrilling.
- A cloaked figure quietly approaches Edwin's cell –
Cloaked figure: Pst. (no response) Pst!
Edwin: (eyes narrow) Oh, do go away! (moves his arms, watching the chains sway) For a man of my high station, this is most unbecoming. Disgraceful, actually. (leans against the wall) Where are the idiots? Honestly, how long can formulating a rescue plan take? Especially one of the 'break door, kill anything that moves' variety. (How crude… but, right about now, appealing.) I will not be there to direct them, but no great mental acuity is required there. (Let us be thankful for small mercies.)
Cloaked figure: (interrupting Edwin's dramatic monologue) Pst! (gestures frantically)
Edwin: (annoyed) You are starting to grate on my nerves. (sigh) Let us try monosyllables, then. Go! (Simple instructions for simple minds… I should write these down for my memoirs.) (no effect) Hmm… Obviously, this is the time to resort to sign language. (makes a rude gesture)
Cloaked figure: (comes even closer to the bars)
Edwin: (with air of supreme command – the effort to hide his very own 'wand of power' from prying eyes somewhat dilutes the overall effect) Leave me, undead imbecile! (hits the bars with the shackles) Now, back to things of importance. It would be reasonable to assume that I am left to my own devices once more, and take it from there. (removes hands from the aforementioned area to prevent any possiblity of misunderstanding) My escape will be dazzlingly brilliant, naturally. A feat of such bold cunning, masterful deception and ingenious backstabbing that it will live on in song and legend for centuries to come. (It will have to be in dactylic hexameter, of course. Al the great epics are written in…)
Cloaked figure: (risking life and limb, interrupts Edwin's thought processes once more) Do you hear me? (abandoning futile attempts at secrecy, stands in front of the cell)
Edwin: Obviously, I am not getting through to you, wench. Let me venture a guess. You are so drawn to my masculine charms that your desire-hazed mind is unable to process even the simplest of commands?
Cloaked figure: (words burst out) I can keep up this pretense of indifference no longer. (a dramatic pause follows; Edwin yawns) Yes, I am drawn to you, wizard, against my will and my better judgment both. But there is no fighting what I feel. (whispers) I do… desire you.
Edwin: (bored already) And?
Cloaked figure: (with a shaky sigh) Your elusiveness will drive me to madness.
Edwin: (disinterested) The Asylum is particularly appealing this time of year… or so I hear. (Escape plan, escape plan…) (after a moment of deep thought) (I am drawing a blank, here.)
Cloaked figure: You have no other answer for me? Is there no hope that you might return my heart's desire? (desperate) None?
Edwin: (not listening) (Escape plan… First, to get rid of these.) (rattles his chains – temporarily forgetting his meager strength stats, attempts to free himself using sheer physical force) Ow!
Cloaked figure: (gripping the bars) Have you no mercy? Hold me but once. Let me tremble beneath your touch.
Edwin: (still bored) Yes, yes… All perfectly natural. (At least someone here's properly affected by my limitless charm and unparalleled physical allure.) Unfortunately, I would not consider copulating with the undead for all the gold in Calishman. A diviner would never stoop so low.
Cloaked figure: (slumps down) You find me repulsive, then.
Edwin: (gentle as only he can be) Quite. Go try your luck with a necromancer. They are not so picky when it comes to the pulse deprived. (Considering the smell that comes with the profession, they can't afford to be.)
Cloaked figure: (cries) You mock my desire?
Edwin: Is it not obvious? Though, 'ridicule' is the word I would use.
Cloaked figure: (grave) So be it, then. I am thankful that it is yet dark outside, lest I be tempted to greet the sun and escape this sting of your words. (looks away)
Edwin: (ever so helpful) Just go and greet an incoming fireball. Yaga-Shura's men provide those with annoying consistency. (Concentrate, Edwin. How to get this open?) Key, key… Where is the blasted key?
Cloaked figure: (looks back) Did you say… key? (retrieves an item from the cloak pocket) Something like this? (dangles the object in front of a livid Edwin) I lifted it from Veronica. (pauses) I could be persuaded to give it to you. For a price.
Edwin: (grinds teeth) And what price would that be? (As if I do not know.)
Cloaked figure: A night in your arms and no more. I think it a fair trade.
Edwin: (I can see how you would.) Unlock the door, wench, and I will consider your petition. (confidently) I assure you, the charms of Edwin Odeisseron are well worth waiting for. (And you will wait a long, long time, if I have anything to say about it.)
Cloaked figure: A token of your affection is needed before I do anything of the sort. (in a heated whisper) A kiss, a caress…
Edwin: (hurriedly) A kiss would be acceptable. (Better nip that in the bud, before her imagination runs away with her.) Come closer, wench, and prepare to be overwhelmed by the erotic skill of Edwin Odeisseron. (Be it of the unwilling kind. Pucker up, Edwin, and think of Thay.)
Cloaked figure: (leans in close) Hold me.
Edwin: (I would rather snuggle up to Craspenar.) (silenced by an ardent kiss, Edwin does not think of Thay, but of what? Let us take a peak into his thought processes) (Categorizing the sensations… for the sake of scientific inquiry. Regular amounts of moisture, temperature bellow normal, but not unpleasantly so, slightly sharper teeth… do not panic… wait. Is that… Is that a…. A stubble?!) (pushes the cloaked figure away) What?!
Cloaked figure: (breathless) What's the matter?
Edwin: (wipes at his mouth with his forearm) This is impossible! It can not be. (Please, let her be a mere circus attraction.) (sputtering) You… you are no wench!
Cloaked figure: (sheepish) You figured that out, huh? (throws back the hood of his cloak) it is true, I am no wench. (we see the dark, chiseled face of an undoubtedly male vampire… the stubble included)
Edwin: (a stunned silence follows)
- A few seconds later… loud cursing is heard, echoing through the silence of the sewers –
Next time:
Chapter 7
(In which Edwin is faced with a moral dilemma, the Temple priestess attempts an exorcism… with a little encouragement from a persuasive, if somewhat violent, Bhaalspawn… and Imoen comforts a lost soul, with some interesting consequences)