Chapter 8: A Lady in Need? Day 6
The next morning they ate a quick breakfast and headed outside to meet their contact. He introduced himself as Garrick. He announced grandly that he was a bard of some renown in the employ of a great thespian. He was of average height, and not poorly built. He was clad in ornate crimson chainmail and carried a light crossbow and short sword. "So the job is a simple one. Just serve as her bodyguards til sundown and you are 300 gold richer. What could be easier?" Welcoming the chance at easy money they followed Garrick to meet his boss. Silke turned out to be a woman who looked like an over the hill courtesan trying to look younger. Her face was heavily made up and her mage robes were cut to show a lot of skin. She clutched a beautiful white quarterstaff that was clearly enchanted. She stated that she had been receiving death threats and she was to meet the criminals today. She wanted allies to strike them down. Jeral accepted her terms and settled down to wait.
"There they are, make ready you lot." Silke's words shattered everyone out of their relaxed posture. The three men walking down the street looked like harmless merchants. Nothing about them appeared to be a threat. One spoke "Silke, we are here as you instructed, what do you wish to discuss?"
The sweet voice was not replaced with a harsh cutting scream, "Kill them now!" Silke raged.
"Hold on there lady, we are not killing anyone until we understand what is going on," Jeral cried.
Reddening Silke turned and faced Jeral. Spittle flying from her mouth she screamed, "Our deal is off! In any case you lot are probably too cowardly to be any good in a fight. I will deal with them myself, after I deal with you." With that she started chanting the words to a spell. Khalid and Ajantis drew their swords and charged while Imoen readied her bow and Jeral drew a throwing knife. Before any of the others could act Jaheira had closed with Silke and punched her, hard, in the face. Silke's nose broke with a loud crunch and blood spurted fourth from it. Silke screamed in pain and rage and struck Jaheira in the side with her staff. Jaheira grunted in pain and collapsed to the ground. "You broke my nose you mongrel dog." Silke raised her quarterstaff over her head to deliver a killing blow to Jaheira. Before she could complete the blow she was struck by an arrow to the chest, a throwing knife to the throat, and a long sword strike to the stomach. Dead where she stood her quarterstaff slid from her now lifeless hands and she crumpled to the ground. Khalid laid his bloody sword on the ground and knealt next to his wife. She was muttering a spell and soon had healed her own injured side.
The men thanked Jeral and company for sparing their lives, they said they were business partners of Silke and she had evidently tried to double cross them. The leader, a merchant named Faltis, handed the party a few potions in gratitude. Imoen looted Silke's corpse and came up with 500 in gold, a mage robe, and the clearly enchanted quarterstaff.
Smiling Imoen handed Jaheira the quarterstaff. "Bet this one will not break so easily." Jaheira smiled grimly and took a few practices swings with her new weapon. Apparently satisfied she nodded in acceptance.
Garrick had been standing off to the side silently. He sheepishly approached the party. "Guess she had it coming, what with her being really evil and nasty and all. I am not sure what to do now. I am in need of a job." The members all looked to one another for opinions. No one seemed to have anything to say about the young bard for good or for ill. Jeral was about to send him away when he saw that Imoen was staring at the bard and smiling shyly. Guess sis thinks he is cute, Jeral mused. Wanting his sister to be happy he extended a hand and said, "Welcome, let's see how you manage with us and make a final decision after a few days." With a start Jeral realized that he was not jealous about her possible feelings for Garrick in the least. Jeral introduced Garrick to the others.
"Well, given the excitement of this morning I think we had best relax for the remainder of the day and then head off for Nashkel tomorrow. Khalid, Ajantis and Garrick headed to the Burning Wizard Inn to rent three rooms for the evening. Jaheira and Imoen disappeared to do some shopping and snooping around. Jeral decided to visit the local smith and see about selling the mage robe. The smith determined that it was lightly enchanted to offer some protection against fire. Since Jeral knew no one in the party could wear it he decided that they could make some money and sell it. Jeral spent 30 minutes perusing the wares of the smithy. Flush from the funds from Silke and the sale of the mage robe he went on a bit of a shopping spree for his companions. For Jaheira he purchased a lightly enchanted sling, and 100 normal sling bullets. For himself he picked out a well made long bow with a quiver of 60 arrows, and for Imoen more arrows. Since Khalid and the paladin their front line fighters and already well equipped he got nothing for them. When he walked out the door, Taerom Fairuim gave him a hearty farewell.
He left the smith and brought his newly purchased items back to the Inn. At dinner that evening he presented all his companions with their share of the remaining funds and the equipment he had purchased. They were all delighted. Imoen was practically beaming and clearly had something to say. She quickly handed Jeral a wand. He recognized it as a lightning wand. This was something Imoen could not afford. "This is great Imoen; do I even want to know how you got it?" "Don't ask brother. Just do not visit the large estate to the North of town." Shaking his head and smiling Jeral marveled at the new toy. "I am sure I can put this to good use, thank you Imoen."
"My pleasure, I know you have not learned many spells and you cannot cast any of them while in armor so I thought this might be of assistance."
"Thank you sis, I will only use it where absolutely necessary." Jaheira started to inquire where Imoen had acquired the wand until Khalid suggested that the two of them retire for the evening. Shaking her head in frustration Jaheira followed Khalid upstairs. Ajantis excused himself and headed upstairs to polish his armor and pray to Helm.
"Well it's just the three of us now," Garrick said.
Garrick ordered them a round of Ale. Jeral took a healthy swallow and started coughing and sputtering. The ale was thick and sour and burned going down. "What is this swill?" Jeral gasped. Laughing Garrick informed the others that this was a rare delicacy, ogre rotgut ale. Evidently a Flaming Fist patrol had defeated a small band of ogres and sold the recovered alcohol to the local taverns. "The bardish life requires one to be open to new experiences, else how can I ever hope to tell great tales without living them myself?" Imoen wrinkled up her face at her mug, "that may be true Garrick but I am getting some wine, you can have your Ogre brew." Jeral forced his mug down and it settled like a stone in his stomach.
Garrick was delicately sipping his and clearly was thinking that the drink was less romantic in the drinking than in the potential retelling. Imoen came back with a bottle of wine and 2 glasses. "Garrick can have my ale, let us drink wine." "Fine by me Imoen," Jeral replied. The two proceeded to tell funny tales of their childhood to Garrick and the more they drank the funnier and louder the stories became. Garrick entertained the entire bar with a few bawdy tunes that had the entire common room singing along and laughing at the off-color verses. At some point there was a second and then third bottle of wine. The evening was getting late so the three finally decided to wrap up and head off to bed.
They reached the second floor with only a few minor stumbles. Garrick was sharing a room with Ajantis while Imoen shared a room with Jeral across the hall. They said good night to one another and retired to their separate rooms. Jeral doffed his shirt and boots and collapsed on his bed. He tried to focus on a spot on the ceiling to keep the room from spinning. Garrick collapsed on the floor with a thud, completely missing the bed. Evidently the 2 ogre ales had been quite enough for him. His muffled snores could be heard across the hall almost immediately. Imoen went behind the changing screen and quickly put on her pink night-shirt. It was thin and stopped above the knee. Jeral tried not to stare but the alcohol made that effort doomed to failure.
A lump formed in his throat as he stared at her. Imoen had a tight figure with lean athletic lines. While noticeably shorter than Jeral she seemed much taller than him right at this point. She stepped out from behind the screen and swayed a little as she walked. Clearly the wine had hit her like it had Jeral. "Do you remember when we played healer and warrior as kids?" Smiling Jeral thought back to the many times they had played that game. In it one of them was always the wounded warrior and the other had to undress them and check over their body to see if they were ok. They played it on and off for a couple years until they both realized they were getting too old for such childish games. "Yes I remember."
"Wanna play now?"
Jeral could not speak. Finally his voice returned.
After stammering for a second he managed to croak, "No, that would not be right, go to bed."
Yet another night where sleep did not come easily.