Stepping back into the room, Baeloth had to suppress another laugh. Really, these surfacers were too ridiculous for words.
It took the few minutes of Baeloth's absence for the half-orc to finish - at last! - the sword-polishing, and somehow, he chose the exact moment when he was alone with Jade to practice battle moves with it. He also appeared to have lost his shirt in the process, for some unapparent reason.
Predictably, Baeloth's reappearance marked the moment when the half-breed had satisfied himself that he could, indeed, swing a metal stick, and decided to leave. Jade's gaze followed him out of the room and Baeloth wondered if she noticed that Dorn did not quite shut the door to his bedroom. He chuckled. She was a rogue, locks were her element. Of course she noticed.
"There will be wine," he announced, flinging himself in front of the fireplace with more than his usual flair ; the slight grimace of disappointment on her face just then did not escape him.
"I hope so," she barked. Her bare feet were resting against the fire grate, looking strangely dainty and delicate. "I really do need some quality time."
Did she say that a tad louder than was needed? She was a rogue, and silence was her element - of course she did. Baeloth hesitated only for a moment.
Sometimes, he thought, I really am a bastard. And I'm loving it.
He reached out and took her foot in both hands, resting it comfortably against his thigh. Her eyebrows shot up, but she said nothing and allowed him to massage her foot, switching between milder and stronger touches, pressing, rubbing, kneading and stroking. She closed her eyes, content, but opened them again when the door swung and Shar-Teel entered, covered in sweat and about three leather straps overall. She shot Jade a disapproving look - letting yourself be touched by a male, unthinkable! - and went straight to her bedroom without a word.
"I wonder why she wears that," Jade murmured. Baeloth reached for her other foot.
"Oh, that is simplicity itself. For your entertainment," he said.
"What?"
"Well, all right, for my entertainment. You see, I told her it would be a good idea. I have some experience in gladiatorial matches, you know - the Black Pits, Bloodshed Worthy of the Underdark, geas-bound outsiders... I'm sure I've mentioned it?"
Jade only rolled her eyes at that.
"So, speaking as a professional Entertainer, I advised our crazy berserkess to wear a whorish outfit during fights. To show her contempt for the male opponents and further humiliate them."
"To do what?" Jade giggled. "I know she's not particularly smart, but... what?"
"Oh, it was a perfect performance, I assure you. I wish you could have seen it!" His slender fingers danced through the air. "The sheer maestry of persuasion, of argumentation, of reasoning! I told her that, by wearing no armor at all, she manifested her contempt for the skills of the opponents, implying they would be unable to injure even her bare skin. I told her that, by showing off her body she would make the lowly males slaves to their lust - doesn't she always say how 'men never think with their minds'? - and could further humiliate them by showing them how little in control they were. I told her all sorts of idiotic gibberish, and she swallowed it all! Now she enters the arena wearing only two leather straps to cover her nipples and two to cover her clitoris, and she thinks she's some sort of goddess of war! Really, this is too priceless for words. And her ego doesn't even let her realize that the real reason people flock to watch is because they want to see the idiot slut who goes into battle naked!"
He paused, shaking with laughter. Then he took a few breaths and wiped off a tear.
"Although," he added, "I wonder if she does in fact have a clitoris. If she had, she would probably find men more useful. Or at least she would have been less uptight."
Now it was Jade's turn to burst out laughing. "You really are mad, you know," she said, resting her feet comfortably on his lap.
"Compared to who, exactly?" The drow grinned, as Xzar chose this very moment to start screaming again. His madness was getting worse ever since he had devoted his time to the worship of Cyric, and of course the insane god had noticed him. Divine powers came, cracking an even greater fissure in his mind, and this was not the first time they had to tie him onto his bed with ropes.
"Rabbits!" he roared, in the voice of one of his less-frequent personalities known as Burke. "You wanted me to tell you about the rabbits? I WILL TELL YOU ABOUT THE RABBITS!"
Baeloth raised his eyebrows at Jade, who made an impatient gesture. "Mad Cyricist aside-" she started.
"Mad Cyricist aside, you have a bloodthirsty warrior who is too full of herself to even notice that she's being sexually exploited, a bard who steals his own money back from whores because he needs it to pay for potency elixirs so he can screw even more whores, for some undisclosed reason, and-"
Jade interrupted. "Just to brag, I suspect, although I've wondered about that myself. But do continue," she added sweetly. "I am very interested what you have to say about Dorn."
"You are, aren't you? I've noticed you stare at him. Does the bad boy make you swoon, Jade?" the Drow's red eyes reflected the firelight, gleaming like rubies, and his smile was especially predatory. "With his black eyes and black hair and black sword and black soul? Or is it his bloodlust? You really shouldn't have stopped them from fighting each other, I would love to see which of our happy butchers would have won." The thin curve of his teeth was dazzlingly white against his jet-black skin. "But no... I think it's his voice that makes you quiver under your dark leathers. Am I right? Does his low, manly growl make you wet? Do you imagine yourself stretched under his heavy body, moaning with pleasure and pain?"
Jade swallowed the lump in her throat, and opened her mouth to say "Jealous?" but then thought better of it. This was Baeloth, and the only thing that mattered for Baeloth was entertainment.
Instead, she said, "So he's not mad, is he?"
"Oh, of course he is. I mean, how insane do you have to be to make a pact with a damn deamon just to get out of jail?"
"Not just that. He wanted revenge."
"Yes, against a few mortals who, by his own admission, were no match for him even before the pact. And he sat in jail, brooding on his hatred until it got so vile that a deamon sensed it? Because he spent a few years in a cell? Boo hoo, poor little half-breed." Baeloth contorted his face in an utterly ghastly grimace of mock sorrow. "Was he raped in prison? Because if he was raped in prison, I might have understood. But no, our half-orc friend was probably not traumatized. He may have been a source of trauma for others, of course. And I suspect a prison in a surface city is not the most horrific place one could find oneself in, Jade. What would he have done in the Black Pits, I wonder?"
"I didn't-" Jade began. But there was a knock on the door, and a servant came in, bearing drinks. Baeloth darted up, grabbed one bottle, and whisked it away towards Dorn's room.
"Oh master Il-Khan! I beg to inform you that we have been brought our alcohol!" he called out with his most mischievous grin.
There was a moment of silence and then the door opened, showing the huge, gray form of the half-orc, wearing only a pair of britches. His gaze lingered for a moment on Jade, half-laying in an armchair, her bare legs stretched out towards the fire, the black silk sliding off her shoulders and revealing her cleavage. Her lips parted as she watched the two men, each of them a negative of the other. Baeloth, extravagant, narcissistic, a good-humored yet deadly trickster ; and Dorn, silent, serious frighteningly straightforward and just as deadly. Agile, graceful drow, black-skinned and silver-haired, and unmovable, huge half-orc, with black hair and pale grey skin. Jade turned her head away to mask both the lust and conflict in her gaze.
The men stared each other down for a moment, and then Dorn snatched the wine bottle away, shutting the door with just a grunt. Baeloth danced back towards the woman and offered her wine with a mocking bow.
"See? Can't unwind for even a moment." The drow crouched down by the fire, another bottle in hand. "Can't take pleasure in anything. I'm very sorry to say this, but I sincerely doubt he can give pleasure, either... So if you want your bed warmed, you filthy female, I suggest you send out for some hot coals."
"He did say him and the necromancer woman were lovers," Jade replied, taking a swig. She wasn't about to rise to such easy bait. "So I think he must be able to give some pleasure."
"Well, if you are that desperate to find out... Shame he had to kill her, you could have asked her for a review. I wonder if that's the real reason for her death?"
Jade leaned forward, watching the firelight pour a dull gleam over the drow's black skin. It looked impossibly smooth. "Maybe I will send for some hot coals, just to have you dragged over them, you exasperating elf. And then I might well find someone to warm my bed, too."
The white eyebrows rose like a particularly confident sunrise. "Really? Who, Eldoth?"
Now both of them burst out laughing. Jade stood up.
"Alright, that's enough entertainment for today." She reached her bedroom door, her bare feet making no sound.
"Oh, there's never enough entertainment," hissed the sorcerer. Did she hear that? She was a rogue. Of course she did.