The Gunslingers

The last time Jhelnae had been in the dining cabin of the Eye Catcher a magnificent feast was laid out on the mahogany table, their host was disguised as Zardoz Zord, and he wore a loincloth held up by a pair of criss-crossing leather straps and not much else. This time a handsome male drow waited wearing well-crafted black leather armor with gold ornamentation. Which surprised her, since the crew they encountered so far were all disguised as human even as she herself, like last time, had taken on a human guise the moment she stepped onboard. Like the previous personas Jarlaxle adopted he wore a wide brimmed hat with a feather. This time the hat was purple and the feather white. His lips twisted upward in a smirk as she and Aleina entered and amusement glittered in the purple depths of the one eye not covered by his eyepatch.

"Welcome to the Eye Catcher," he said from where he sat on the other side of the table. "Unfortunately Zardoz Zord is not aboard. I believe he is visiting his good friend, J.B. Nevercott, haberdasher. So I'll be meeting with you instead."

"Really not in the mood for your antics at the moment," the half-drow said, leveling a stare at the finally revealed Jarlaxle.

She really wasn't. Not with two of her closest friends as prisoners of a mind flayer.

"Out of curiosity," the seated dark elf said. "Was there ever a time where you have been in the mood for 'my antics'?"

"No," Jhelnae answered simply.

"Didn't think so," Jarlaxle said, shrugging. "So, why then would I care if you were in the mood or not?"

"Why no disguise this time?" Aleina asked. "The first time we met you, you arranged a very bizarre lunch for us and the next time you showed up as an outlandish companion we all thought was going to be a burden. Now - no feast, no loincloth, no girls in undergarments fawning over you?"

This time there was no Khafeyta, the acrobat or Margo, the lyrist. The only other occupant of the room was the humanoid construct standing attentively behind and to the left of the chair of the dark-elf. A nimblewright their host had named it on their last visit. The mechanical man was still dressed in a fine red embroidered coat with long tails and festooned with geometric designs in golden thread.

"Enjoyed those things did you?" Jarlaxle asked. "So did I. But you can't accomplish much in life without a good sense of timing. And that sense tells me the time for play has passed and now it's on to business."

His smile fell away and he gestured to the chairs across from him. Despite herself, the half-drow was a bit impressed. The dark-elf's demeanor had gone from playful and devil may care to attentive and serious in an instant. Keen intelligence now shown in the regard of his single revealed eye rather than impish charm. Jhelnae found herself wondering how many individuals over the centuries had underestimated Jarlaxle, passing him off as just a rogue, scamp, and scoundrel only to be surprised at this other side of him too late. More than a few, she guessed.

Wordlessly, she and the aasimar sat in the indicated chairs.

"This is an offer from the Open Lord," Aleina said, pulling out a scroll tube.

She passed it across the table top to the drow, who broke the seal and began reading the contents. While he read, Jhelnae's gaze drifted to the purple curtains bordering the open rear windows of the cabin. The silk tassels were swaying to and fro, in time with the gentle rocking of the ship. Afternoon sunlight sparkled on the waves of the harbor. A full day had nearly passed since Laeral Silverhand had come to retrieve them out of their imprisonment in one of the basement cells of the Beacon Tower. The half-drow and aasimar had spent that time gathering those who would join them to rescue their friends and kill the mind flayer - Fargas, Surash, Ront, and surprisingly the brothers of the genasi sister Sky and Kuhl had been hired to find. When the siblings came to check in on the progress of their hired detectives, Aleina had relayed, through Dawnbringer, why their friends thought she was in Undermountain. It wasn't much to go on, but it was the best lead the brothers had on their sister's whereabouts. That increased the rescue party to nine, ten if you counted the construct Ancilla, and why wouldn't you? While she didn't speak and had to be told what to do, she looked very formidable and deadly with her silver metal and lacquered wood body and glowing runes.

"To be sure I understand what is being offered," Jarlaxle said, looking up from his scroll. "I aid in the killing of a mind flayer and her Ageless Majesty promises to use her influence to try and allow the city of Luskan to join the Lord's Alliance?"

"If that is what the scroll says," Aleina answered. "Then yes."

A diplomatic way of phrasing it. The two of them had actually not read what was written on the sealed scroll, they'd only been told what it contained. They didn't have the authority to clarify the Open Lord's words.

"But she offers no guarantees?" the dark-elf pressed.

"I don't want to speak for her," the aasimar said with an open handed gesture. "But how could she? She is only one voice out of ten."

"But Waterdeep is the strongest voice," Jarlaxle mused. "The City of Splendors has but to whisper and every other town and city leader in the Alliance strains to hear. And with the long life of an elf, I have the time to let the idea of Luskan joining the Alliance take seed, go to root, and grow into the thoughts of future generations."

He seemed to be thinking aloud to himself. Since there was no need to answer, Jhelnae said nothing and Aleina did the same.

"I accept," the dark-elf finally said. He looked at each of them thoughtfully. "But I have a condition. I require something from the two of you."

The half-drow narrowed her eyes. She suspected what he would require from them. Evidently her aasimar friend suspected the same. She heaved a sigh.

"What is it?" she asked. "A kiss on the cheek? Like before? More? That was fine at the moment. We'd just survived a battle together. You'd just given us healing potions. I felt elated to be alive and curious as to your real identity. But now it's insulting. We're here as emissaries for the Open Lord to offer what you said you wanted. You either take the offer or not. If not, we kill the mind flayer without your help."

"You haven't heard the condition," Jarlaxle said.

"But we can guess," Jhelnae said, rolling her eyes.

"Can you?" the dark-elf asked. "Did I not say play time was over and it was on to business?"

Despite herself, the half-drow was curious. She gestured for him to continue.

"A good portion of my business involves the Underdark," Jarlaxle said, steepling his fingers. "The majority, actually. So, I am very interested in the goings and doings down there. Recently my contacts and spies have reported disturbing things. Even more recently, the flow of information and trade has slowed to a trickle. Among the last information I received was a high bounty offered for the capture of an aasimar, a cat person, a half-elf, an orc, and a drow who led house Mizzrym on a chase throughout the Underdark."

Jhelnae stiffened and could not keep herself from glancing at Aleina, who gave a worried look in return. Was Jarlaxle going to demand they return to the Underdark and let him claim the bounty? He must have read their concerns through their expressions.

"I care nothing for this bounty," the dark-elf said, shaking his head. "Ahh, but information, that is something very valuable to me. If you are the aasimar and drow in question, you can tell me what you saw and either collaborate or refute the rather wild information I have received."

Another glance was exchanged between the aasimar and the half-drow. Should they take Jarlaxle at his word and admit his suspicions were correct? Jhelnae gave an ever so slight shake of her head.

"I'm sorry," Aleina said. "We can't tell you anything since we're not…"

"From my experience with you," the dark-elf said with a chuckle, cutting her off. "You have many fine qualities. Among them a quick mind that keeps its wits under pressure. But lying is not a skill you possess. You're terrible at it."

"By all that dances, you'd be the one to know," the half-drow said. For some reason the way he condescended to her friend even as he complimented her made her temper flare and she threw caution to the wind. "Fine! Yes, we're the drow and the aasimar in that bounty. In the City of the Dead I started to say where we met. Well, it was in Velkynvelve, in the Underdark, as prisoners. Satisfied?"

"Not really," Jarlaxle said. "Since I knew that already. Suspected anyway. Tell me the rest of your Underdark experience, what you saw, who or what you encountered, and I will send some of my lieutenants with you to help deal with this mind flayer."

For a time, no one spoke, their silence marked with the gentle rock and creak of the ship and the sound of lapping of waves against the hull coming through the open window. The dark-elf sighed.

"Runaway aasimar bride," he said. "I can relate to you. Because of your gender, did your family view your celestial heritage as something to be married off to the highest bidder? Did you resent that? Is that why you ran away? Oh, I know what the Wazoo says. That you ran off to be with the companion sitting next to you, but as your friend already explained, you hadn't even met yet."

Jhelnae felt a twinge of guilt. She herself was the source of the rumor that Aleina ran away to be with her. She did it on a whim, a flippant statement to get rid of the host at the Mermaid Arms who was trying to upsell them services on an already overpriced room. She should have realized he would blab to the broadsheets.

"I wasn't sold off to the highest bidder," the aasimar said. "I had some choice in the matter. Some. He had to be wealthy and they wanted me married as soon as possible. Children should follow quickly after to seal the familial alliance. So, to answer your question, yes, I was resentful. Not to my family, we desperately needed the money, but to… well my fate I guess."

"As a male born into the drow matriarchy," Jarlaxle said. "I understand. But I wasn't even expected to marry well. Consorts have little power. The best fate that awaited me was to become good at sticking the pointy end of sharpened metal into the targets the matrons aimed me at. But I changed that fate."

He paused and gave a gesture to indicate the dining cabin and the ship as a whole.

"Do you think I would begrudge others for escaping their fate?" he continued. "All I want is information. The information to protect the Underdark portion of the organization I have spent my lifetime building."

Slowly, at first haltingly, Aleina and Jhelnae told their story of their time in the Underdark. Jarlaxle listened and, after a time, gestured for the nimblewright, Jacks, to pour them the spiced green wine served on their last visit. He asked few questions, but shook his head in obvious frustration more than a few times during their narrative. Towards the end of their tale, particularly in Blingdenstone, they rushed in the telling and only summarized. Partially because the svirfneblin would not want them to tell a potential threat too much about their city and partially because the afternoon was advancing and they were supposed to meet with Laeral Silverhand with their gathered forces tonight.

The dark-elf sat back in his chair when they had finished, arms crossed, lips pursed and expression thoughtful.

"I'd never believe what you said if it didn't match what else I've been told," he said. "Demon lords in the Underdark. I hoped what you told me would refute it. It's something I can no longer ignore. That being the case, I need to conclude my business in Waterdeep quickly."

He looked at the nimblewright.

"Fetch Krebbyg and Fel'rekt and bring them here," he said.

The mechanical humanoid clanked out of the dining cabin as ordered, gears whirring.

"Since we have some time," Jarlaxle said, looking at Jhelnae. "Mind if I ask something?"

"Probably," the half-drow answered.

The dark-elf gave a snort of a laugh and proceeded with his question, undeterred.

"For drow, white or silver is typical for hair," he said. "But yours is as dark as your skin, or at least it is when not aboard the Eye Catcher, and your eyes the green of a surface dweller. You are clearly mostly drow, but also…"

Jhelnae did mind answering this question. And she wasn't fully sure of the reason. Her grandmother was an alu-fiend, the offspring of a succubus and a human wizard, and the source of the half-drow's dark hair and green eyes, according to her father. A father who, through very unusual circumstances, was raised in Celestia and became a paladin of Torn despite his demonic ancestry. She felt no shame about her ancestry. Aravae, a fey'ri, was one of her closest friends. But that didn't mean she wanted to share the full story of her parentage with someone like Jarlaxle.

"As you say," she said. "I am mostly drow, but with some blood of the surface mixed in."

"It has created a very interesting combination," the dark-elf observed.

"Well, glad to be worthy of interest," Jhelnae said, rolling her eyes, tone flat. "Let me ask you something. Why did you show up at the City of the Dead?"

"That was a strange coincidence," Aleina said. "We didn't know we would be there until moments before."

Jarlaxle looked between two of them, eyebrows arching.

"You think I went there because of you two?" he said, chuckling. "What was I called during your last visit here? A narcissist? Someone who thinks everything revolves around them?"

"Then why were you there?" the half-drow said.

"Boredom," the dark-elf said, shrugging. "Wandering the city I saw the posting and decided to have a little fun. It was going to be as Zardoz Zord, but when I saw you two there I switched to J.B. Nevercott."

"Please tell me you weren't wandering the city wearing nothing more than a red loincloth, leather straps, and a hat," the aasimar said.

Jarlaxle smiled.

"Zord has other outfits," he said. "Though that one seems to be one you like since you keep bringing it up. Khafeyta and Margo like it as well."

"By all that dances," Jhelnae said in a sighing laugh. "You really believe that, don't you? Hate to tell you this, Khafeyta and Margo find that outfit annoying and find Zord annoying."

"I've had no complaints," the dark-elf said with a wink. "You may find Zord annoying, others amusing."

"Trust me," the half-drow said. "Those complaints are coming."

"As we established earlier," Jarlaxle said. "You are mostly drow. A race, and I am saying this as a member of said race, not known for a sense of humor. Particularly among the females."

"So, drow are from the Underdark," Aleina said. "And celestials are from the heavens. So together Jhelnae and I cover a wide range of female perspectives."

"Very wide range," the half-drow said. "Expansive. Like the entirety of female perspectives."

Knowing her friend well, she could see where this was leading, and approved.

"So, speaking for the entirety of the feminine gender," the aasimar said. "Let me say we all find someone like Zord more annoying than amusing."

Jarlaxle chuckled.

"I sit here chagrined," he said, not looking the least bit chagrined. "I would apologize to you and to Khafeyta and Margo when I next see them for being unwittingly annoying, except I adopt the Zord personality to amuse myself, not anyone else."

"What did I say," Jhelnae said, shrugging. "Self serving narcissist. Only concerned about his own amusement."

"I hope, by the way, you show Khafeyta and Margo plenty of this side of you," Aleina said. "The drow leader concerned for his organization and what demon lords in the Underdark might be doing to it. Much more interesting. Less shallow. Attractive even."

The half-drow sniffed out a sigh. Just like her friend. Couldn't let a good cut stand, even in jest. She just had to soften it with something nice.

The door to the dining cabin opened and the nimblewright entered followed by two humans, or what appeared to be humans. They had the slender, whipcord build of elves, and given some sort of magic changed Jhelnae's own appearance to that of a human while aboard, she had no doubt they were drow. Both were clad in dark studded leather armor and wore scimitars sheathed at their waists, but also had an ox horn and some other weapon in another short sheath belted at their hip. Jhelnae had never seen anything like it before. The handle protruding above the sheath curved, like those of the one-handed crossbows drow favored, but it definitely wasn't one of those. The horns must be hollowed out, because both had stoppers in the tops. At first glance the half-drow thought one was female, but after a moment more of study she decided she was mistaken and both were male.

"This is Krebbyg and Fel'rekt," Jarlaxle said by way of introduction. "They are two of my best gunslingers."

"Your two best gunslingers," the newcomer on the right said with a smirk, Fel'rekt judging from their nods during the introductions.

He had a very pleasant, high toned voice.

"My best gunslingers," the dark-elf leader said with a nod of acquiescence. "And as my best gunslingers they will accompany you and help you kill this mind flayer."

Both Krebbyg's and Fel'rekt's eyes widened in surprise, but an expression of acceptance and resolve quickly followed and they both bowed in acknowledgement of the order.

"Matters require that the Eye Catcher and Hellraiser set sail as soon as possible," Jarlaxle said, speaking to his men. "But the Heartbreaker will await you two once you conclude your mission."

"What is a gunslinger?" Jhelnae asked.

"An individual trained in weapons that use smokepowder," the dark-elf leader said.

"What is smokepowder?" Aleina asked, brow wrinkling in confusion.

"It's sort of a misleading name," Jarlaxle said. "It does smoke, but more importantly, it goes BOOM."

I sort of like the backstory the WOTC writers put in about the drow gunslingers. Don't know if I'll be able to work it in before they exit the story, but maybe...

I'm not sure if the last part works. I had all the necessary bits to get to the point where the gunslingers will become part of the assault force and then I was like, "Okay, what do they talk about while they wait for the nimblewright to retrieve the gunslingers?" So I just let them banter and Jhelnae, for some reason in my head, just loves taking swings at poor Jarlaxle. I don't know if his fragile ego can handle it. Ha ha.

If ever Salvatore stumbled across my fanfic, and he never would of course, he'd be "How dare you? How dare you use my lovable rogue in such a way. Its not enough that you have to insult Greenwood by using Laeral in the way you use her you have to add insult to injury?" ;)

On that note, I've often been curious how fans of the Forgotten Realms novels would feel about takes on canon characters. I actually go to the Forgotten Realms Reddit because the lore drops on there are amazing! People really know their stuff and you can often get cool ideas just scrolling. However, based on the few fan fiction topics that pop up I have noticed, despite bemoaning the lack of novels they once had, they pretty much despise any fan fiction written on it. Here is the deal...I have listened to a TON of Forgotten Realms novels. A TON of them. And I have to say, in my opinion, the Forgotten Realms fan fiction stories I am reading and following on the sites hold up well to what I experienced in the novels. And don't get me wrong, I loved many of the novels. Richard Baker - he wrote some of my favorite stories PERIOD. Erin Evans - loved the way she weaved the relationships in with her characters (both romantically and between the sisters). I was in awe of it. But some of the stuff on the sites is pretty darn good as well!