Chapter 27 – Day on the Town – Day 93
The pair faced off in the stable of the Elfsong Tavern and saluted each other with their weapons. After sparring for close to an hour both were drenched in sweat as they shook hands and started pulling the padding off of their blades.
"Ajantis, the matter is closed. Imoen and I are not going with you and the others. If she does not get some shopping done today she is going to kill me."
"Well why doesn't Dynaheir go with her? Shopping is after all more suitable to the fairer sex."
"By the Gods Ajantis you really do not understand women do you? Never say something like that in ear shot of either of them for you will never hear the end of it. Imoen has been through a lot. She just needs a relaxing day of shopping with her brother."
"Very well Jeral I understand the pull of family."
"Thank you again for the sparring session, I appreciate your taking the time to train with me. I have not sparred since we left the Friendly Arm Inn so I needed the work."
"It is my pleasure. In the Order we spar every day so this reminds me of home. You are getting much better by the way."
"You are too kind Ajantis, I may be doing better but I know I am not yet a match for you."
"Your technique is excellent; but I do not understand why you place yourself at a disadvantage by fighting with that short sword. You have the size and strength to handle a proper blade."
"There is merit in your words but I must make do with what we have. We only have one heavily enchanted long sword and it is better placed in your sword arm than mine. This blade is heavily enchanted as well and I am better served fighting with this than a long sword of lesser enchantment."
"Your words have wisdom Jeral, even if your actions yesterday showed a lack of the same."
"Ajantis, we needed to investigate the Seven Suns and it seemed safe enough."
"The three of you were attacked by a nest of doppelgangers."
"Technically the three of us destroyed a nest of doppelgangers."
"You could have been killed."
"Ajantis, we have faced dangers almost every day since we have met and the dangers are only increasing. Risk is inevitable, danger is inevitable and it will be a wonder if we all survive through the next fortnight."
"Well that was cheerful Jeral. We had best clean up so we can meet the others at breakfast."
"Agreed. Let's go clean up and meet everyone for breakfast. You can take Yeslick, Dynaheir and Minsc to meet with Captain Scar….."
"…while you take Imoen shopping."
"Exactly, you visit with the Flaming Fist while I go shopping with my sister."
As planned, Jeral and Imoen departed the tavern together after a leisurely breakfast in search of a tailor or seamstress of the highest quality. Imoen walked with a sense of purpose as she turned first one way and then another. Jeral was quickly losing his orientation and was not sure where they were headed as Imoen took them depper and deeper into the side streets and back alleys of Baldur's Gate.
"So where are we going Imoen?"
"We are heading to the shop of Madame Clarisse."
"And who is Madame Clarisse?"
"She is the most talented tailor and dressmaker in the entire city. She can make anything for anyone."
"Ok, this should be interesting."
Madame Clarisse's shop was not what Jeral expected. It was located in a narrow alley and a simple sign overhead read 'tailor.' The sign and door were both weather beaten and heavily scarred from years of exposure to the elements. It did not look like anything more than a run down shop.
The pair entered into the shop and were immediately addressed by a young girl of ten or twelve years of age. The spartan room was empty save for a pair of large mirrors, a couple comfortable chairs and the young girl sitting at a desk. The child looked up and smiled prettily showing perfect white teeth and dazzling violet eyes.
"Good morning, how may we help you?"
Imoen bent forward and smiled warmly. "Good morning little girl. My name is Imoen and this is my brother Jeral. We are here to buy some new clothes and boots."
"Excellent. Please know that we are very costly. Perhaps the two of you would be better suited for a less exacting shop? We can recommend some lovely lower cost alternatives."
"Aren't you a cheeky little girl?" Imoen shot back at the child.
"I am not trying to be rude but I have very explicit instructions. We only cater to the most demanding and well heeled customers and pardon my directness but the two of you do not look very well heeled."
The thick string of pearls landed on the desk in front of the little girl with a snap. She took out a small eye lens from the desk drawer and gazed at the necklace critically. She smiled warmly and rang a small bell on the corner of the desk.
"It appears I was wrong about you two, my apologies."
A tall large boned woman entered the room from a curtain in the back. She was an attractive woman of early middle age with a head of thick black hair and violet eyes that mirrored those of the young girl at the desk. She was also heavily pregnant and held her back as she awkwardly approached.
"Welcome to my shop. I am Madame Clarisse, and this is my daughter Tanya. What may I do for you today?"
"I am Imoen and this is my brother Jeral. I am in desperate need of some new clothes and some new footwear. If time permits my brother's attire could use some improvement as well."
Clarisse eyed them both critically.
"I can see that my dear. Jeral please have a seat and turn your chair to face the front door. Tanya, please close and latch the front door of the shop so we are not disturbed."
Madame Clarisse clapped her hands and a pair of teenage girls came out from the back room. One carried a box while the other had a sewing kit with a tape measure, pins, chalk and scissors.
"These are my daughters Talya and Tarya. Lady Imoen please disrobe and step up on the box."
"Disrobe?"
"Of course dear. In order to get proper measurements I need to have you undressed. We will also design you some new underclothes as well. All of my customers get under things to accompany their new clothes."
Imoen reluctant disrobed and stepped up on the box. "Jeral, if you peek I swear to the Gods a dagger will end up in your eye."
"Never mind me sis, I am sitting here staring at the door."
"So my dear, what kind of clothes are you looking for?"
"I need a couple every day outfits as well as at least one outfit for when a girl needs to look pretty. I also need a new set of every day boots, a pair of soft soled shoes and a pair of slippers. Ummmmm, is it cold in here or is it just me?"
"Never mind that dear; I can get you a glass of mulled wine for the chill. As for your attire we can manage to make what you need without any trouble. My child this may be a delicate question but I must ask. Do you plan on doing dangerous things while wearing these clothes?"
"Probably."
"Do you plan to continue your magical studies?"
Imoen turned and started open mouth at Madame Clarisse.
"Don't gawk dear it is positively unladylike. If you dress a certain type of customer you learn how to pay attention to detail in order to provide the best possible service. I know what residue from spell components looks like on the hands of a mage. No matter how many times you wash your hands some of those components will never come off."
"Don't I know it."
"Will you also need room for your specialized gear?"
"What specialized gear?"
"Why your thieves tools of course."
Dusk was starting to arrive when Jeral and Imoen were finished with their fittings and both were wearing their first new outfits.
Imoen was beaming as she modeled her clothes in the mirror. The boots were a dark purple and reached almost to the knee. Silver laces up the front tied them together. Imoen's pants were a dark blue and inappropriately tight. Imoen's new blouse was silver to match the laces in her boots and draped down reaching her mid thigh and covering up the inappropriate trousers. It had long sleeves and buttons in the front and on each wrist. Over the blouse Imoen wore a well tailored pink vest.
"Now my dear, let me explain a few things about your clothes. The boots are sharkskin with soft leather soles and are lined with wolf's fur. They are waterproof, quiet on any surface and I guarantee they will survive a walk in the sewers should that happen again. The boots also have internal sheathes to hold a pair of your lovely knives as well. Your trousers are made of the softest leathers and will resist tearing and stains. Incidentally pants that tight are not appropriate for a women of quality. Not in the least."
Imoen smiled, hiked up her shirt, and wiggled her rear end in the mirror. "That may be true but these pants make me look spectacular."
Madame Clarisse chuckled and continued on. "I do understand child, I was young once myself. Your blouse is made from the strongest spider silk and is loose enough to cover those lovely protective bracers of yours. The small pockets in the shirt will allow you to store all of your spell components and have them readily accessible. I am particularly proud of the vest. It is made of a two layers of linen with a layer or shark shin in between. The sharkskin should turn an arrow or a knife from all but the strongest enemy. Your thief's tools can fit in the internal pocket in the small of the back. Your throwing knives are in these custom bandoliers that strap around your upper thighs. Your long blouse will cover them from prying eyes but leave them readily accessible.
"This is perfect, I love it." Imoen hopped down and hugged Madame Clarisse and then kissed her three daughters as she danced around the room.
"I am glad that you are pleased. I will have the remaining outfits delivered to the Elfsong within two days. They will be equally colorful per your requests. Right Jeral, your turn, up you go."
Jeral hopped up onto the box and eyed himself in the mirror. Madame Clarisse stood next to Jeral and eyed his attire critically in the mirror.
"Your requirements were frankly much easier to fulfill. The boots are black with hard soles. Black iron reinforces the tip of the boots and the heel giving you an additional weapon in a pinch. The electrum buckles on each side conceal your daggers. The pants are dark grey brushed leather and should hold up quiet well given your line of work. There are small pockets on each leg for storing a wand. As an aside, I am pleased that your pants are not nearly as tight as those of your sister."
Imoen snorted, "Trust me Madame Clarisse we all all happy about that."
"As I was saying. The belt is functional with a platinum buckle. You may wear your sword on it on those occasions like today when you are not wearing your armor. Your shirt is black linen with electrum buttons. The left sleeve is reinforced with sharkskin to protect the wrist from your archery. The vest is soft leather dyed scarlet with iron rings sewn into the interior lining for additional protection. There are interior pockets for your coin purse and spell components. Topping it all off here is your jacket. Black leather with scarlet buttons cut to reach mid thigh. It is oversized to allow you to wear it over your armor; however it will also look fine without your chain mail. There are interior pockets for you zink, throwing knives and any odds and ends you may have. And of course, it is treated to repel water, blood, and other worse fluids.
Jeral eyed himself in the mirror and fought down a smile. "Very well dome Madame Clarisse. I trust the payment was sufficient?"
"Yes, you are more than generous; the necklace will cover everything quite nicely. Your additional clothes will be delivered with Imoen's. One last thing Jeral, I think you look much better when you wear your hair back and let people see your face."
Jeral blushed and departed the shop with his sister after the pair thanks the shop keeper and her daughters profusely.
"Let's head back to the Elfsong and meet up with everyone else."
"Sounds good Jeral, I am famished. By the way, what is with all the black and red?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well you have never really favored red before; you have always favored blue or earthy colors."
"I am not sure Im. It just feels right. The color reminds me of blood. I have seen so much blood in the past three months and I am sure I will see much more in the near future."
"And the black?"
"Despair. In three short months I have lost my home, I have lost Gorion and I will likely not outlive the season. Besides black is really easy to keep clean so that is an added benefit."
"Well at least that is cheery, now I need a drink."
The pair continued walking in silence and returned to the tavern without incident. When they entered the crowded common room they discovered that their companions were already seated and waiting for them to return. Jeral and Imoen slid into the open chairs and Jeral noted that everyone had a long face.
"Heya everyone, check out the new clothes we have. That tailor is a genius; she even made Jeral look good." Imoen was greeted with four dark looks from the table, and quickly stopped talking and looked down at her hands.
"So glad the two of you could join us." Ajantis looked at the pair of newcomers, voice dripping with sarcasm and disdain.
"Squire Ajantis, we are all upset. However that does not excuse your rudeness, they played no part in today's fiasco."
Ajantis glared at Dynaheir and then blushed. "My apologies Dynaheir, you are correct I must maintain my proper bearing as a member of the Order and a disciple of Helm." Shifting his gaze to Jeral Ajantis took a deep breath and continued speaking.
"My apologies to the two of you for my rude manner. I am very upset for our visit with Scar today did not go as well as expected."
Jeral just sat quietly and waited for Ajantis to continue. For once Imoen also held her tongue, clearly unsettled by the frustration apparent at the table.
"We arrived at the Flaming Fist headquarters without incident. We asked for Captain Scar and were taken inside. When we went in we were introduced to a Captain Angelo. He is the other captain in the Flaming Fist and is Scar's equal. Nasty piece of work that one. He started in on us demanding to know what we were doing in the city."
"So what did you tell him?" Imoen asked, unable to stay silent any longer.
"I stated that we were directed to report only to Commander Eltan or Captain Scar else we would not be paid for our work."
"Since when do you care about money Ajantis?"
"I do not care about money Imoen, not in the slightest. But I have seen men like this Angelo; he understands little beyond money and power so I gave him a motivation he could understand."
"So what happened next?" Imoen leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table.
"Angelo started getting very upset that we would not talk to him. He threatened to arrest us all."
"So why are you not in jail?"
"Well we owe Minsc a debt thanks for our freedom." Ajantis smiled and Yeslick and Dynaheir chuckled.
Dynaheir leaned forward and smiled as she patted the ranger's forearm appreciatively.
"I can tell this part of the story. Angelo stated that the men would all rot in jail but he would keep me chained in his bedroom for his personal amusement."
"That sounds horrific Dynaheir; I fail to see the humor in that kind of a threat."
"Very true Imoen, I was starting to get concerned myself when faced with the prospects of serving as a harem girl for Angelo. Fortunately for all of us Minsc lost his temper. He grabbed Angelo by the scruff of the neck and started shaking him like a child's toy."
"Well done Minsc." Imoen beamed at Minsc and patted him on the shoulder. Minsc blushed shyly and looked down at his plate as Dynaheir continued the tale.
"Angelo started screaming his head off. Captain Scar heard the ruckus and found us in Angelo's office."
"Heh heh, and the row between the two of them was a sight to behold." Yeslick chuckled as he downed his mug of ale.
"I have seen many an argument in the Order and this put them all to shame. The pair was screaming at each other and looked ready to come to blows. Captain Scar finally had to threaten to kill Angelo then and there before he would leave the room. Once Angelo left Scar settled down and sat back to listen to our tale."
Jeral sat patiently, waiting for the rest of the story to come out. Clearly something had happened that did not go as planned. Jeral laid a restraining hand on Imoen's forearm. Snapping her mouth shut in frustration Imoen sat back in her chair and drained her wine glass as she impatiently waited for the tale to continue.
"Once Captain Scar calmed down we told him about our discoveries in the sewers and in the Seven Suns merchant house. He was very pleased with us. He called for lunch and ale and the five of us had a merry lunch. There was much toasting and celebrating."
"Ajantis speaks truly, Captain Scar was extremely interested to hear about the doppelgangers and he was convinced that he finally would have evidence of the Iron Throne's involvement. Unfortunately, after lunch things took a turn for the worse."
Imoen could no longer contain herself so she blurted out, "how could things take a turn for the worse? We completed both tasks, you reported back to Scar and only Scar and you broke bread with him. What could go wrong?"
The four companions looked to one another as if determining how to break the news to Jeral and Imoen. Finally Yeslick exhaled deeply and continued the tale.
"While we were eating Scar had sent out patrols to the sewers and the Seven Suns to confirm our reports."
"Ok, so they found a sewer full of dead carrion crawlers and a house full of corpses."
Shaking his head Yeslick tugged on his beard nervously. "Well that is what we expected them to find. But that is not what they did find. When the patrol reached the sewer they found exactly what we said they would find so Scar knows we completed that task. But when they got to the Seven Suns merchant house and searched it they found nothing."
"What do you mean nothing?" Jeral jumped to his feet and pounded his fist on the table. "That house reeked of death and decay and that was before we killed a nest of shape shifters."
"Calm yourself Jeral, you are getting as agitated as Imoen."
"Hey, you are supposed to be nice to your apprentice."
Dynaheir smiled warmly at Imoen. "My dear you have great magical potential inside of you and I am quite fond of you but good judgment and patience are not traits I as of yet associate with you. Now may we continue with our story?"
Jeral returned to his seat and he and Imoen crossed their arms and fumed silently as Dynaheir continued the story.
"One of the junior officers reported back to Scar and he relayed the findings to us. We protested quite vehemently. In fact Ajantis and Yeslick had to restrain Minsc from attacking the soldier, so great was his rage. Scar agreed to visit the house with us and a score of his most trusted soldiers."
"We returned to the house and entered it. The house was immaculate. There was not a spot of dust anywhere; the home was full of servants in the livery of Jhasso."
"Dynaheir, how is that possible? You Minsc and I all know what we saw. Even Boo know what we saw. Were you taken in by an illusion? Did Scar take you to the wrong house?"
"Don't insult me! Do you think I am a fool? Jeral, I am a mage of no small ability, there was no illusion and we were taken to the correct house. Someone or something cleaned the house and removed everything that was incriminating. They then sent in new servants and they played their part well."
"How is that possible? That house was a tomb, it smelled like death and there was blood and carnage everywhere."
"Jeral, with enough hands or enough magic anything is possible. Less than two score of my kin created the Cloakwood mines in less than ten years, neatening up a house would be child's play for someone with the proper resources and motivation. So the better question to ask is not how this was done but who has the ability to make it happen."
Minsc leapt to his feet and slammed a meaty hand down on the table. Cups tipped over and plates rattled as the entire table shuddered. A hush fell over the common room of the Elfsong as everyone stared at the large man, wondering if they were in danger.
"The time for talk is over. Now is the time for action. Minsc is not a smart man. Ever since I was little I have known that. But even a not smart man can understand this. We have faced an enemy that was attempting to create an iron crisis. At every turn we encounter the hand of the Iron Throne. So it becomes so simple that even I can make sense of it. We must destroy them to ever be free. So on the morrow I am going to wake up early, strap on my mail, heft Spiders Bane, have a hearty breakfast and then attack the Iron Throne." Minsc turned away and slowly headed to the stairs up to his room.
"Nice speech Minsc. How can we be sure someone is not pointing us in the wrong direction?"
Minsc smiled and looked back over his shoulder as he headed upstairs. "Ahhh that is the easy part little Imoen. Boo told me so."
"Oh great. So our brilliant plan is to attack a well regarded, powerful, highly defended merchant house because a miniature giant space hamster told Minsc that this was a good idea. Does anyone else think this is insane?"
"Minsc is my protector, where he goes I go. What other options remain to us? We know we are watched and followed at every turn so this is no longer the time for guile."
"Minsc is no paladin but there is great honor within that large man, on the morrow I will fight by his side. I feel that this is the noble path for us to follow."
"That man has the soul of a dwarf, my hammer will join him in combat tomorrow and the Gods will hear of our feats."
"Imoen, I want my life back and to get it I need to stop the people coming after us. Somewhere in the Iron Throne is the man who killed Gorion and he owes me a life. And when I find him, I am going to watch him die."
"Well I guess I should stick around to watch that, although if he is the monster you say he is then you are probably not going to do very well against him when the time comes. But either way I am in. I am off to bed. See you in the morning." With a deep sense of foreboding the party broke up and retired to their rooms.
Day 94
The scratching on the outdoor shutters was faint, almost imperceptible. Jeral only noticed it because he was not asleep. Worried about the raid on the Iron Throne in the morning Jeral could not sleep. He kept imaging himself watching all of his friends die in front of him as they were cut down one by one, their blood pooling into a lake on the floor. The faint scratching pulled him back to the present and Jeral focused his senses on the sounds by the window. Silently rolling his head to the side Jeral watched as a small metal wire slid into the gap between the shutters and quietly lifted the bar holding them shut. Jeral watched as the bar was silently lowered to the side and the shutters slowly swung open. Jeral noticed that someone had oiled the hinges to ensure they no longer squeaked when they moved. Jeral slid his hand quietly along the floor next to his bed searching for his sword he had placed there before going to bed.
His hand swept side to side but could not find his weapon. Before he could wonder what happened to it a man clad all in black appeared in the window. Jeral caught a glimmer of steel in the moonlight and launched himself at the window. Jeral caught the man perched on the window sill and slammed his arm violently into the window frame. The man cried out and dropped his throwing knife on the floor. Giving his attacker no chance to recover Jeral grabbed his head in both hands and wrenched violently. The man's neck broke with an audible snap and Jeral pushed him out of the window. His lifeless corpse fell into the street with a sickening thud. Breathing heavily Jeral's heart pounded in his chest as he looked out and found the street deserted as it was only a few hours before sunrise. Muttering to himself Jeral closed the shutters and rebarred them.
"Tisk tisk Jeral, you were a little unkind to Laufer just then. Still I suppose he asked for it by flashing a weapon at you. I did tell him to ensure he did not threaten you in any way. It is so hard to find people who know how to follow directions. This will serve as an excellent lesson to the others about the need to follow my instructions precicely."
Jeral threw himself to the floor, picked up the blade from the floor and pivoted to hurl the blade at the unknown assailant. A lantern on the table was quickly unshuttered and the room filled with light. A well dressed man was sitting at the table with his hands neatly folded on his lap. He smiled at Jeral and something about the man caused Jeral to pause with the blade held behind his head ready to throw.
"Ahhhh, do I see a flicker of recognition there Jeral? I beg of you I mean no harm. Please allow me a few moments of your time and then you may do with me what you will."
"If you mean no harm then why did he try to kill me?"
"A fair question. He had very clear orders to break into your room via the window at this very appointed time. While he did that I entered through the door. He was the distraction to cover my entry."
Without lowering the blade Jeral relaxed slightly. "Well he did his job well for I never heard a sound from the other side of the room."
Endar bowed his head and a slight smile crossed his lips. "I do pride myself on my talents. However his was the role of distraction only, he erred when he drew his blade and justly paid for his error with his life."
"Very well, that explains how you got in here but does not explain the why."
"As you wish. You may not recognize me but we have met before."
"I am sorry but you do not look familiar."
Jeral eyed the man carefully. He was short, thin and had grey hair that was cropped short. He wore dark brown breeches and a high necked long sleeve tunic made of the finest green velvet. He looked every inch the picture of a prosperous middle aged merchant or a member of the lesser nobility. Despite his outward non threatening appearance there was something dangerous about the man, almost like a snake coiled to strike.
"I am not surprised for I barely recognize myself. I cut quite the different figure since we last met. Perhaps this may help you remember me." The man slowly rolled up the dark green sleeves of his tunic and revealed two heavily scarred wrists. Jeral instantly recognized the scarring that results from an imprisonment in a pair of heavy iron shackles. Looking closely at the man recognition came flooding back and Jeral smiled.
"Endar Sai I presume? You are looking much better than when we parted ways at the Friendly Arm Inn."
"Two months of good food, a comfortable bed, my own clothes and the company of my guild members can work wonders on a man."
"So why are you here and what do you want?"
"I am here to help you with your Iron Throne problem."
"How did you know about that?"
Endar laughed delightedly and rocked back in his chair.
"My dear boy everyone knows about that. Since the moment you crossed the bridge into Baldur's Gate everyone who matters in this city has watched your actions with great interest. Last night's episode in the tavern did not make things any less conspicuous. You plan to raid the Iron Throne headquarters building tomorrow in your search for answers."
Jeral laid down the throwing knife on the table and slowly made his way over to the bed. Sitting down he eyed the thief carefully. "Fair enough we do plan to raid their headquarters tomorrow. What is that to you?"
"My good man, I owe the Iron Throne a debt of pain so I intend to help you hunt them for me."
"I am interested, keep talking." The conversation continued until dawn and when Endar Sai departed the room Jeral allowed himself a small smile. They might all survive the day after all.