Chapter 19
"Why are they are all looking at me?"
Gorion looked down at the little dwarf walking beside him before following his gaze. Dorean was indeed attracting a lot of stares and mutters from the Candlekeep residents.
"Most of them have probably not ever seen a young dwarf before," he replied softly.
The boy paused, then nodded. Silence settled on them again as they continued their walk through the garden surrounding the keep. Dorean idly scratched his goatee and inhaled through his nose, breathing in the smell of dew-covered grass. He looked up at the man walking beside him, his hands clasped behind his back. After a moment's hesitation, he stretched out his arm and tugged at the hem of Gorion's robe.
"What do you think of dwarves?"
The old wizard stopped and contemplated his charge for a moment. He then smiled and turned to face him.
"Well, I know how most people perceive dwarves; that they are a proud people who hold tradition and culture in very high esteem. They also have a love for gold, gems and other metals that shine in the light. Along with a deep-rooted dislike and distrust of all strangers, even other dwarves."
Gorion paused to focus on Dorean's face. The boy's expression remained unchanged; his head was tilted slightly to one side and his eyes were widened slightly, digesting the information.
"In my own experience," Gorion went on. "Many dwarves have a tendency to assume the worst in others, and usually do not hesitate to share such opinions."
"So they're hard to like."
"Yes, they can be...difficult," Gorion replied tactfully.
Dorean lowered his head and was quiet for a long time. "Am I like that?" he said quietly, seemingly more to himself than to Gorion.
The wizard paused for a moment, then bent his knees, lowering himself as close to Dorean's level as he could. The little dwarf looked up at him again.
"I have met many dwarves in my life. There was one in particular - a mercenary - who travelled with me and my fellow Harpers for a time." He paused for a moment, smiling in recollection. "He was gruff, harsh, greedy, all the characteristics that are negatively associated with his race. None of us enjoyed his company, and we tolerated him mainly because he was useful." He looked away from Dorean, lifting his head slightly towards the sky. "However, after a few months, he started challenging anyone who so much as insulted us, and even refused an opportunity to betray us despite the offer being..." He trailed off.
Dorean blinked up at the man. He waited for several seconds before speaking. "What happened?"
"...he swore that he would die for any one of us. And he did."
Gorion slowly rose to his full height, turning to face the morning sun.
"Dwarves are often difficult to get along with. But if you manage to earn their trust, they can be good friends and even better allies."
Dorean hesitated, then slowly nodded and watched the sunrise as well. After a moment, he lowered his head again, then spoke without looking up.
"Have you met any evil dwarves?"
There was no answer from the wizard. Gorion went very still, looking up at the morning sky. He spoke eventually, without looking at Dorean.
"...we could take another round of the gardens before breakfast. What do you think?"
The dwarf kept his gaze down. "...alright."
As they began their walk, Dorean looked up and blinked rapidly.
The blue colour of the wizard's robes was now replaced by light grey...
..
Dorean blinked again, and the grey robes became green.
Xzar was sitting cross-legged on the bed next to his own, hands resting on his knees and leaning forward, staring straight at him.
Dorean immediately sat up with knife in hand, then lowered it.
"Careful," Xzar whispered in an admonishing tone, ignoring the blade that only seconds ago was less than a foot away from his face. "She's still asleep."
The dwarf froze, then slowly turned his head, keeping the wizard in his pheripheral vision.
Imoen was now lying on her back, her hair splayed across her pillow. She mumbled in her sleep and rolled onto her side. Her snores resonated throughout the room.
"What was it about?"
Dorean turned back to face Xzar, lowering the knife to his side while keeping it in his hand. "Sorry?"
"You were dreaming."
Dorean hesitated. Xzar did not move or in fact even blink, bright green eyes fixed on the dwarf's gray.
"I was walking. In Candlekeep."
"Were you alone?"
"...no. I was with...with my father."
Silence fell on the room, broken only by Imoen's snoring. After a moment, Dorean slowly looked away from Xzar to the other side of the room. Khalid and Jaheira were both sitting up on their combined beds, their backs against the wall and their eyes closed. The dwarf scrutinized their faces for a moment before looking back to the wizard who was still staring at him. A thought floated across Dorean's mind that he seemed oddly docile, almost diminutive without his robes.
"Do you share beds with her frequently?" Xzar asked, his tone inquisitive.
Dorean blinked rapidly, opened and closed his mouth, then opened it again when the door flew open with a crash, its lock spinning onto and across the floor.
In the next two seconds, Khalid and Jaheira were on their feet in an instant with weapons in hand while Dorean grabbed his loaded crossbow from the top of his pack next to the bed and aimed it at the doorway.
Montaron strode in, his face twisted into an ugly scowl.
"Wake up," he announced roughly, looking in the direction of Dorean's bed.
"Mmm...wha..." mumbled Imoen, blearily opening her eyes. "Monty?..."
"Montaron," the halfling corrected automatically.
"W-what t-t-time is it?" said Imoen, sitting up and yawning.
"Downstairs. Now." He looked at the half-elves. "You too." He then turned on his heel and left as quickly and abruptly as he entered.
They all remained still for a moment, listening to his loud footsteps echoing down the corridor, before turning as one to look at Xzar. The wizard's head turned from left to right, meeting the gazes of the half-elves and the dwarf; Imoen was still yawning and stretching her limbs. He then frowned, huffed and folded his arms, looking like an emaciated fishwife.
"Don't look at me. I just work with him."
"He's not very jolly for a halfling, is he?" said Imoen between another yawn.
"You only realized that just now?" replied Dorean despite himself. "And wasn't the door locked?"
"It was," said Khalid.
"The mechanism must have been weak," said Dorean, looking at the broken lock on the floor.
"Or he is much stronger than he looks," Khalid replied.
There's the lack of stutter again, thought Dorean, narrowing his eyes at the Calishite. He felt Jaheira's eyes on him and quickly looked away to Imoen. "Come on. We better not keep him waiting."
The girl gave one last cat-like stretch of her limbs, reached over and ruffled Dorean's untied hair, then got up and began pulling on her pink tunic over her chemise.
Xzar remained cross-legged on his bed while the others got dressed.
"What did you dream of, Imoen?" He asked suddenly.
The pink girl looked at him and paused in recollection.
"Pie."
The wizard blinked for the first time in five minutes.
"All kinds. Apple, cherry, blueberry. Lots and lots of them, all lined up on a big banquet table." Imoen slowly swept her arm from right to left to emphasize the scope of the imaginary feast. "With honey and milk poured on top." She paused. "And sugar in the lining of the crusts." She paused again, then looked down at Dorean and nudged him in the shoulder with her elbow. "Hurry up. I'm hungry now."
"You're always hungry."
As Imoen was helping Dorean tie his hair into its usual bun, the latter noticed that Jaheira was now openly and directly staring at him; Khalid was preoccupied with adjusting his armour.
The dwarf pretended to be distracted by Imoen, repressing the feeling of foreboding in his chest. He sneaked a glance at Jaheira's feet, as close to eye contact as he dared.
Where was she last night?
..
"Excuse me, young man?"
Montaron looked up at the elderly couple.
"May we sit here? Everywhere else is full."
A silent, stone-faced stare was their answer. The couple then hurried away, mumbling quick excuses and nearly tripping over Dorean in their haste.
"You're not a morning person, are you, Monty?" said Imoen, sitting down next to the halfling.
Montaron stared at her for a full three seconds before brusquely waving over a nervous young barmaid who was clearly more accustomed to dealing with older, less rough-looking customers. He promptly ordered three dishes, then dismissed her with a "An' make it snappy," to which she gave a quick nod and scurried away.
"What took yez so long?"
"Had to bring all of our things with us," replied Dorean, choosing the seat directly across from the halfling. "Strangest thing, the lock on the door was broken. No idea how that happened." He impassively met Montaron's stare; his patience with the halfling had been gradually worn thin over the past few days.
"I assume you are not going to pay for the damage?" said Jaheira, her voice dripping with scorn. "Or for the food you just ordered?" She and Khalid remained standing, grimly looking down at the halfling.
"Oh, he never pays for anything," said Xzar, smirking contemptuously at his partner. Dorean frowned as the wizard sat down on Imoen's other side.
"Shut up an' listen," said Montaron. He paused to glare at Dorean for a few more seconds. "Need all'a ye to come with me an' meet someone."
Dorean frowned and cocked his head. "This 'someone' the dwarf you mentioned yesterday?"
Montaron briefly narrowed his eyes at him. "Aye."
"Are you going to tell us why?"
Montaron's right eye twitched. "Want to hire him, an' he wants something done in return."
Dorean paused. "And you need us for this, because...?"
"If ye don't want to go, then fine," said Montaron. He lowered his head and glowered at the table. "Can't stand the bastard anyway."
"Me neither," said Xzar, leaning his cheek on one elbow. "He is a very, very, very rude man. Not at all like you," he smiled pleasantly at Dorean. Khalid and Jaheira glared at the wizard together before turning back to Montaron.
"Who is this dwarf?" asked Jaheira. "And why do you wish to hire him?"
Ignoring her, Montaron turned his head to look at the bar at the end of the common room, having had his fill of answering questions. Bristling, Jaheira puffed out her chest and shoulders, then opened her mouth to speak when Imoen cut her off.
"I wanna meet him."
Everyone looked at her.
"We haven't ever seen another dwarf, have we?" she said to Dorean. "Aside from Reevor, that is."
"Who is Reevor?" said Xzar.
"He was our fitness trainer," replied Imoen. Xzar cocked his head.
"You have a fitness trainer? Why?"
"You've seen the way she eats," replied Dorean, perhaps a little too quickly. Reaching across the table, Imoen took a swipe at the dwarf's head which he easily dodged. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Xzar leaning back and rubbing his chin.
While Jaheira glanced impassively at Dorean, Khalid turned away from Imoen to look at Montaron again. "So you were m-meeting with this d-dwarf last night?"
Montaron was quiet for a few seconds. "Aye."
"And...what does he w-want us t-to do for him?"
The halfling took a long, deep breath without closing his eyes. "Talk to him later if ye want."
"...very well."
Jaheira immediately looked at her husband, and they silently exchanged words before she reluctantly nodded. To Dorean's consternation and paranoia, they then took the seats on either sight of him, opposite from Imoen and the Zhents.
"Do you think it's wise to keep him waiting?" asked Dorean as Imoen waved over another barmaid.
Montaron shrugged his shoulders. "Don't care. Let 'im wait."
As a second barmaid approached their table wearing the same nervous expression as the first one, Dorean realized that the noise level in the common room had dropped significantly, particularly at the tables near their own. Casting a look around, he saw that most of the stares and looks were directed at Xzar; apparently, the patrons of Feldepost's Inn had believed Imoen's words about the wizard's extreme aversion to loud noises.
Not exactly endearing ourselves to the townspeople. Won't be long before word gets around that I'm here, if it hasn't already.
His expression darkened upon seeing Jaheira grimace at Imoen ordering three dishes for herself.
Travelling with us isn't going to be cheap. Might affect their decision to keep us around. He glanced at Imoen, then placed his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. Might have to talk to her about that.
Their breakfast arrived with considerably more speed than the meals of other patrons who had ordered first. Montaron silently tossed to Dorean and Imoen each a small packet containing the same white powder he had applied to their drinks in the Friendly Arm. He then tucked into his beef porridge, ignoring the stares of the Candlekeep roommates and Harpers seated with him.
Xzar, however, narrowed his eyes at his partner and quietly sipped his tea.
..
Once they had finished their breakfast, of which Imoen and Montaron had seven of the eleven ordered dishes, they left the inn and made their way towards the centre of the town.
Montaron must have spoken to his dwarven contact at least before dawn; it was now only the early hours of the morning. Yet Beregost was already awake and busy, with people exiting their homes and walking the streets in droves.
As before, the party drew stares and unfriendly, suspicious looks from the locals, most of whom gave them a wide berth. Dorean pulled his hood further over his face as they passed a patrol of poorly-equipped town militia.
They soon arrived at a large one-storey building that was unremarkable aside from its large, open double doors.
Stopping in front of the entrance, Imoen read the sign above it aloud.
"'Dented Shield Company - Security and Protection.'" She paused, then quickly looked around. "Little brother?"
"He's over there," said Xzar nonchalantly, pointing at a nearby alleyway. The party walked over to find Dorean standing around the corner out of sight.
"I'm not going in," he hissed.
"Relax. I already told 'im 'bout ye." A full belly seemed to have calmed Montaron's nerves, for he was now slightly less surly than before.
"You could have mentioned that the man we're meeting with is in a mercenary band!"
"Yes, you could have," agreed Jaheira, glaring down at the halfling who rolled his eyes at both of them.
"I said I already told 'im."
"And how is that supposed to help?" snapped Jaheira.
Montaron's eyes narrowed as his usual bad mood swiftly returned.
Ignoring them, Xzar poked Imoen in the back to get her attention and pointed at the building.
Imoen blinked and followed his gaze. As if on cue, a short, portly man appeared at the doorway, dressed in the usual extravagant manner of a well-to-do merchant.
He stormed out onto the street, flanked by two armed men, then spun clumsily on his heel and pointed a chubby finger at the building.
"You will regret this, groundling! When Governor Ormlyr hears of-"
A helmet hurtled through the doorway and into his face. The merchant's head snapped back and his body folded forward, landing face-down in the mud-covered street. The two bodyguards looked down at him in surprise, then back up at the building.
"Tell that lump'a shit that when he wakes up," said a loud, gruff voice. "If he ever shows his soddin' face 'round here again, it'll be an axe next time!"
The bodyguards hesitated, their eyes wide.
"Well!? Whaddaya standin' there for? Get 'im outta here!"
The two men exchanged looks, then took hold of their unconscious employer's arms and half-carried, half-dragged him away, heaving under his considerable weight.
"So," the gruff voice continued, still loud albeit calmer. "Anyone else wanna make threats in my own place?"
There was silence for several seconds, during which Dorean and Imoen exchanged looks, Khalid frowned, Jaheira scowled and folded her arms, Montaron checked his fingernails, and Xzar stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked idly back and forth on the balls of his feet.
"Good. Now, those of ya who have real, actual business to discuss with me, you may stay. The rest of ya who have complaints, GET THE HELL OUT!"
A mass of people appeared at the doorway, pushing and elbowing onto the street.
"Let me guess," said Jaheira, her voice frosty enough to fog glass. "That is the person you are taking us to."
Montaron answered with a grunt and walked up to the building. Everyone else stayed where they were, looking down at Dorean. The dwarf's eyes went from Xzar to Jaheira to Khalid.
"We will p-protect you, Dorean," said the Calishite. "We promise."
Jaheira nodded in concurrence with him, though she paused for a few seconds beforehand.
Exchanging another look with Imoen, Dorean then took a deep breath, tugged his hood further over his face, discreetly gripped the knife hidden in his shirt, and headed for the entrance. Imoen walked beside him, taking his hand in hers and giving it a light, reassuring squeeze.
Xzar walked up to the doors ahead of the Harpers and stopped next to it. He then gave a bow and welcoming wave to them as they passed.
He smiled at Jaheira's contemptuous glare and Khalid's jaw-clenched sneer before following them inside.
..
They were stopped at the entranceway by an outstretched arm. "The boss is ready for you yet," said its owner.
They stood by and waited, Khalid putting himself between the Candlekeep roommates and the guard, his hand resting lazily on the pommel of his sword. Dorean glanced at Jaheira, noting the equally-relaxed grip she was maintaining on her quarterstaff.
They're both on alert.
As usual, the dwarf immediately took stock of the people in his immediate area, noting the four guards not counting the one at the entrance as well as their weapons and armour which are in considerably better condition than the patrol they passed on the street earlier.
Militia would probably hesitate to confront these people.
Oblivious to her teammates, Imoen idly looked around. Several large shelves adorned with various items stood in rows along the walls running the length of the building. They seemed to be well-organized and maintained, with the items arranged neatly and written labels positioned in front of them.
"Healing and resistance potions, poison antidotes..." she said aloud. "Wow. Who makes all these?"
"A hermit who lives west of here," Xzar answered for her.
On the other side of the building stood a low counter. A dwarf stood behind it, facing the apparently only non-mercenary who did not leave at the owner's outburst earlier.
"Please, you have to find him, I'm begging you!"
"Did ya not hear me, lady? I said only those with actual busin-"
"I'll pay, I'll pay anything you ask! I just need to know that he's alright! It is killing me, not knowing what has become of him..."
With an impatient growl, Montaron strode towards the counter past the guard, who did a double-take before attempting to catch up to him. "Hey!"
"Kagain," said Montaron loudly.
"Hey, you!"
"Kagain," Montaron called again, ignoring the man behind him.
"Hey!" The guard moved in front of the halfling, blocking his way. "Did you not hear what I said, short-arse? I said, the boss ain't ready to meet you, so get back before I-"
"Drumm!"
The man jerked upright with a start and turned to face the dwarf.
"What do you mean, I ain't ready to meet him!?"
"I...I, uh..."
"Are ya sayin' ya know whether I'm ready or not better than I do? Is that what you're sayin'?"
"N-no, boss, I wasn't saying that, I was just..."
"Just what? Why are ya harassin' my clients? Are ya tryin' ta drive my business away? Is that it?"
Drumm's mouth opened and closed like a gulping fish. Dorean noticed that the other mercenaries had turned their heads and averted their eyes from the scene.
"No, no, boss, I-I ain't doing anything like that! I was just, you know, just..."
"Know what? An' quit stammerin'!"
"I...I was just doing what you told me to, that's all. You said-"
"Well, ya're soddin' shit at it, Drumm, that's what I say! Get outta here, ya mutt! Don't come back 'til you grow a brain, or better yet, a pair'a balls! Go!"
Drumm's head briefly darted back and forth between his employer and Montaron before he slowly bowed his head in dejection and shuffled out of the building.
"Sorry about that," said the dwarf to Montaron. "Come on in."
As the party made their way across the wide room, the dwarf turned to one of the remaining mercenaries.
"Genn. Escort Missus Marianne outta here. Gently."
"Wh...what?" said the woman. "But-"
"In fact, make sure she gets home. This town ain't as safe as it used ta be."
Keeping his face directed at the dwarf, Dorean noticed from the corner of his eye that, for a very brief moment, Montaron's face had turned even more blank than usual.
The old dwarf turned to address the halfling, and the moment passed.
"So," he said as the woman was reluctantly led outside. "Down to business. Whattaya got fer me?"
Montaron silently gestured with his head at his companions. Walking around the counter and standing in front of them, the dwarf quickly looked over Jaheira and then Khalid. He gave a soft grunt of approval and nodded, then blinked and froze upon noticing Dorean and Imoen.
"Hello," said Imoen, raising her hand in greeting. The dwarf continued to stare at them, his expression vacant. Imoen slowly dropped her hand, her warm smile wavering.
"Is this a joke?" said the dwarf, turning to Montaron. "Is that what this is?"
Montaron did not answer.
"Ya promised me capable hands an' ya bring me a coupla brats? Do I look like I'm runnin' a child rearin' service to you?"
"Weelll," said Xzar. "You do claim to provide security and protection..."
"Shut up," snapped the dwarf, pointing his finger at the wizard before looking back to Montaron. "What the hell is this? Was I not clear to ya? I want men for this job, not soddin' children."
"Hey," said Imoen. "Don't talk about us like we're not here."
The three remaining mercenaries winced. The dwarf went still, then slowly turned around to face Imoen with narrowed eyes.
"I'll talk about ya anyway I want, whether ya're here or not," he said slowly and deliberately. "An' if ya don't like it, ya can eat me."
Khalid and Jaheira straightened, the grip on their respective weapons tightening very slightly. Ignoring them, Imoen frowned down at the dwarf and placed her hands on her hips.
"I'll start with your beard."
Everyone looked at her. The dwarf then made an audible 'heh' and appeared to smirk, though it was near-impossible to tell with his heavily-braided beard.
"What's yer name, kid?"
"Imoen. Yours?" said Imoen, jerking her chin haughtily at him.
"Kagain. I run the Dented Shields," he paused, then turned his gaze onto the young dwarf standing beside her. "What's with ya, nugget? Ya let this girl do all ya talkin' for ya?"
Jaheira's contemptuous scowl was growing by the second. Dorean said nothing. Instead, he stood very still, staring blankly at Kagain and taking in every detail.
The older dwarf stood nearly half a head taller than him and almost twice as wide. An axe hung from his belt on his left side and a flail on his right. The bandolier across his broad chest displayed five throwing axes, each about half the size of Dorean's crossbow.
Dorean's eyes rested on the gold-coloured, gem-encrusted winged helmet atop the man's skull.
Carbos, clutching his empty tankard and slurring. 'Had an armed escort an' everythin'. Led by a dwarf. Had armour, a winged helmet and a big white beard. Looked nothin' like you.'
Dorean's eyes flicked to the three mercenaries, focusing on their helmets and gambesons. He then returned his gaze to Kagain and spoke just as the older dwarf opened his own mouth.
"You want us to join you in escorting a caravan."
Kagain paused, closing his mouth. He then lifted his head slightly, eyes narrowing at Dorean.
"The people you ordered out," Dorean continued. "They were here about the caravan that was supposed to arrive in town yesterday. Probably asking about their loved ones, or demanding refunds and compensation." He paused. "The men you assigned to guard that caravan were massacred. It wasn't even a fight. I don't think they inflicted a single enemy casualty."
The mercenaries tensed, but otherwise did not move or speak. The Harpers' eyes went to them, Khalid slowly closing his grip on his sword. Dorean ignored them all, keeping still with his gaze focused on the other dwarf in front of him.
"You need people who can handle these new players. And your men cannot do that."
There was silence for a moment. "And you think you can?"
"I think," said Dorean slowly. "That right now, you need us more than we need you."
Silence fell on the room again. Kagain then gave a wide smile that did not reach his eyes and gestured with his head towards Montaron.
"Ya friend didn't tell me ya'd have a big mouth." He paused. "He did tell me about the bounty on yer head."
Khalid and Jaheira did not move. Neither did Montaron or Imoen. Xzar, however, appeared to have lost all interest in the discussion and had walked off to examine the items on the shelves.
"Thousand gold alive, five hundred dead. Quite a sum. Five times higher than the usual bounties we get here. Every sellsword, bounty hunter, guardsman an' wannabe hero is gonna be tempted ta try an' get it. So tell me, smart-mouth; why should me an' my guys make that our problem?"
Ten seconds passed. Imoen's head turned from Kagain to Dorean, who raised a hand to keep her quiet. The younger dwarf then slowly reached into his pack without turning around.
Keeping his arm bent at the elbow, he held out his gloved hand, upon which lay the star sapphire.
Kagain went very still, his silvery-blue eyes becoming alight as they gazed upon the gem. Dorean gave him five more seconds before closing his fingers over it and stowing it away in his pack. Kagain blinked, and it took a few seconds before he regained his composure.
"That's just one thing. The job's another. I know people, boy. I know ya ain't a fighter. An' you ain't one either," he added to Imoen. "Ya know how to use that thing?" He lifted his chin at the short-bow on her back. Imoen scowled.
"Yeah, I know how. And he's better," she gestured sideways with her head at Dorean. "My little brother's the meanest shot with a crossbow you'll ever meet."
Kagain snorted, the sound reminding Dorean of Dreppin's cow. "I've got archers, kid. I doubt yer 'lil brother' is anywhere near ta 'em."
"Well," replied Imoen, her scowl deepening as she crossed her arms over her chest. "He also killed two of the men who attacked your caravan. All by himself too. That's two more than all of your people combined have managed."
Kagain went very still, his eyes narrowing to slits. One of his men eased himself off the wall he was leaning against. Another took a step towards the party.
Among the shelves behind them, Xzar looked over at Imoen, his green eyes bright in the dim light of the room.
Dorean hesitated for three seconds, then elbowed Imoen hard in the ribs.
"Oww!"
Imoen reeled sideways, then swiped at Dorean. He dodged her clumsy swing without looking, leaving her glaring at the side of his head.
"You're right about her. She's a spoiled brat," he said to Kagain, his tone crisped. "It's true, though; I'm competent with the crossbow, and I have fought and killed two of the men who attacked and raided the caravan your people were escorting."
Kagain paused for a moment. He looked over at Montaron who remained silent, then back to Dorean.
"Words are nothin' till ya prove 'em, boy."
"There an archery range here?" said Imoen, still rubbing her side. This time, Kagain's smirk was clearly visible, with one side of his thick beard curling upwards.
"There's one at the smithy."
"Let's go, then." With that, Imoen turned and began walking towards the front entrance.
"Hold a moment," said Jaheira, causing Imoen to stop. "We have not yet agreed to help you in your mercenary dealings, dwarf. I assume your friend here," she gestured to Montaron using the same head motion he had used on her earlier. "Forgot to tell you that?"
Kagain paused before facing Jaheira and planting his feet firmly on the ground. "First off; he ain't my friend. And yeah, he forgot ta mention it."
The halfling merely tilted his head very slightly to one side at the dwarf's glare, his expression still mundanely calm.
"You have repeatedly questioned our potential worth to you," said Jaheira. "I will now ask you the same; why should we go through this much trouble and tedium just to hire you?"
Kagain slowly nodded. "Fair point. Well, I can swing an' axe an' a flail better than anyone in this damn town."
"Is that it?" said Jaheira. "Martial skills? I doubt we need another-"
"I also know the lands surrounding Beregost. An' I have knowledge an' experience of underground caverns an' passages...like mines, fer example. Oh yeah," he added when the half-elves both glared daggers at Montaron. "Ya friend here told me. You're goin' together, eh?" He gave another Nessa-like snort. "Never thought I'd see Harpers an' Zhents workin' together. This Iron Crisis must be pretty interestin' to all of ya."
Silence fell on the room like a thunderbolt. The looks Khalid and Jaheira were giving Montaron could have melted steel. The halfling, as usual, ignored them completely. Jaheira slowly turned back to face Kagain.
"He is not not my friend."
Kagain gave an amused huff. "Yeah, didn't think so. Don't think he has any friends at all, do ya, Montaron?"
The halfling gave a quiet, deep breath through his nose, and his expression became so emotionlessly blank that it seemed like he was staring straight through Kagain. The dwarf maintained eye contact with him for a few more seconds before turning back to the half-elves.
"I can also make sure that my men don't bother the nugget. That's if ya agree ta help me first, of course."
"That a threat?" said Khalid. Everyone except Xzar and Montaron gave a start; it was the first time he had spoken since they had entered the building.
"I don't make threats, lad. I make promises. My axe, my knowledge'a the mines, an' my protection. Ya agree ta the deal, ya get all three."
"Words are nothing until they are proven," said Jaheira icily. Dorean winced at her tone.
She really isn't liking any of this.
Kagain nodded slowly once more. "Wise words, woman." He paused, then turned to one of his three remaining men.
"Tenny; look after the place for me. I'm goin' out."
He then turned to Dorean and Imoen, his blue eyes sparkling.
"Well then...let's go see if ya are as mean the shots ya say ya are."