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Dearest Readers, may your sailings bring you to places wondrous and friendly.
THE HIDDEN SWORD: A TALE OF BALDUR'S GATE
Book One: From the Earth | Chapter 17 : Where the Streets Have Names
"That was… speedy and efficient," Nells remarked as they stepped out of the dim coolness of the Harbormaster's Office and into the warm afternoon sunlight.
Shar-Teel grunted in grudging agreement, a mix of surprise and disappointment that the whole process of requesting for free towing and repairs didn't require any threats and sword wagging on her part.
All it took was for them to show the Harpers' letter at the front desk. No further questions asked, the matter approved on the spot, and the group told to return at any time they wish for the barge and manpower that was already reserved for their use. With the captain itching to get back to her ship, the plan was to stay only one night in the city and then set out the following day to retrieve the boat.
The following day. Tomorrow. It would then be time to part ways with the crew for she and her Teacher must continue with their journey to Iriaebor. Irse sighed wistfully as they descended the stone steps from the red brick and timber building.
They walked away from the Harbormaster's Office and through the rest of the busy port by the Clearspring - a smaller river rising out of a rocky crag north of the city, cutting through the middle of Berdusk and emptying down into the Chionthar. Docks were instead built in this waterway as a stable haven for the ships, away from the treacherous rapids in this part of the great river.
"Now to get our reward. Where the hells is this coin place again?" Shar-Teel asked. Though having docked at Berdusk many times, the crew had yet to get entangled with the city's public services.
"The woman guard did say it's in the High Lady's Castle on Castle Hill. Along the same street we took from the gate," Irse checked.
"Steelsword Street from Bellowbar's Gate, yes," Nells confirmed. "So called after Berdusk's first innkeeper, Billiebong Bellowbar."
"Oh, that's nice. Is it because he put up his inn next to the gate and was always the first to welcome traveling folks with warmth and kindness?" Irse asked, tone suspiciously bright and eager.
"And with meals, like lunch?" she added with an edge, eyes narrowed and leveled reprovingly at everyone else in case they have already forgotten the most important thing in the world.
The first mate replied, "No, it's because he died horribly in a fire when his inn was burned down by an angry wizard who wanted an upgrade on his room which the innkeeper refused. The gate was named after him to remind everyone that disputes on trade and services must be settled in a civilized manner. That, or they're taken to the Trademaster who they say is more iron-fisted than the Shieldmasters themselves."
"Oh," the elf murmured, subdued.
They returned to the same road and walked northwards to Castle Hill. Berdusk's seat of government was indeed a citadel on a great knoll, the slopes dotted with trees, a wide paved road leading up to the High Lady's Castle. But it was a fortress rather than a palatial mansion for out of its plain walls and gates streamed city guards, uniformed clerks, and petitioners. They strode past more of the narrow high-towered houses close to the hill's boundary and the elf noted the houses now clean and whitewashed, the crowd appearing better dressed and unburdened here.
"Soft-bellied play-pretties," Shar-Teel spat with disgust as a noble couple jeweled and clad in samite and velvet walked past and cast disapproving looks at their plain-dressed group. "Thinking they're all better with their rotting gashes and pus-drippin' pricks underneath their fancy silks and hoses."
"A sack o' cloyin' pansies actin' like ne'er with their fingers dirty. But we know where they be stickin' em up all's the same," Dotie echoed with equal scorn.
As the two women continued with their exceedingly loud assessment of the perfumed people around them, the other two cringed in embarrassment and nodded their apologies at the other passersby. Okami merely kept his eyes trained ahead and maintained his peace.
Shar-Teel exclaimed an expletive too specific and aimed at the man parts of male authorities upon seeing the enormous line leading to the claims desk of the Coinmaster of Berdusk. Rows and rows of all manner of folk stood one after the other, snaking around the room, segregated by velvet cords and low brass stands. The air buzzed with conversation and complaint, talk of trade and coin, all there to make all manner of claims on the public treasurer for all manner of services rendered to the City.
The first mate sighed. "This could take us all afternoon. Perhaps if we return early tomorrow."
But the captain was having none of it. "The hells be freezin' my arse if I don't get my damned due right now," she muttered. "Dividers aren't as high. We step over 'til we get up front. Any grousers, I'll elbow in the face."
Dotie nodded with grim approval at the mission while Nells cast nervous glances around them.
"We are… cutting in line?" Okami uttered in slow shock.
Everyone turned to the blacksmith. He stood staring at them, wide-eyed, frowning, uncomprehending of the plan.
"Got a problem with that?" Shar-Teel challenged.
Okami's jaw was clenched, his hands usually still, now twitching. Irse noted her Teacher tensing, pale even.
A former soldier, perhaps so averse to the thought of disrupting order, forgoing discipline, and disobeying instructions from authorities to adhere to the queue and await their appointed turn.
A principled warrior unfitted to bear shame from the reproach of the soon-to-be-offended.
A minor act but of grievous disgrace, enough to dishonor even the family cow down to the calf of the fourth generation. If he had a family and a cow.
Irse wouldn't be surprised if her Teacher broke out in hives and started convulsing right then and there.
"Maybe both of us should go outside for some fresh air," she offered. "Easier if there's fewer of you to cut in between folks."
Shar-Teel waved a dismissive hand and Irse shuffled and pushed the blacksmith away and out the door. Behind them, the rest of the crew commenced with their quest to jump queue.
Over the rising din of the people protesting at having been unceremoniously shoved out of the way, Shar-Teel hollered, "Yeah, yeah, comin' through. We've been here all morning. Got a letter from the Harper bigwigs. Outta' the way! I got a leakin' sinkin' boat out there, little ones in the cargo hold about to drown! Do you want 'em to drown, huh? Punks!"
Irse rolled her eyes. By "little ones", she meant the rats.
Master and apprentice stumbled out of the office and into the equally busy foyer, where city guards and their decorated superiors marched past merchants and noble folk deep in conversation while other petitioners stood or milled about.
"My thanks," Okami breathed, the relief evident in his tone.
The elf grinned in return. Both fell into an easy silence, observing the crowd. Not long after, captain and the rest of the crew stepped out of the Coinmaster's Office.
"Penny-pinching prickfaces," Shar-Teel roared, startling a pair of mousy clerks waiting by the door.
The first mate cheerily countered, "It's not as if we expect to become wealthy merchant barons overnight; still the reward was rather substantial. That we got free assistance from the Harbormaster and a stay in one of the best inns in the city is already quite generous of them."
"Could've been more for my troubles," the captain grouched. "Guess we better hit up all the taverns here early if we're spendin' all that gold but leaving at first light tomorrow," Shar-Teel pondered with uncommon seriousness.
"Perhaps it's best if we also put aside most of the gold for the mortgage on the boat," Nells reminded her friend.
"Uh, yeah. That too," Shar-Teel mumbled in annoyed and reluctant agreement.
As they walked down Castle Hill, past the houses of noble folk at the boundary and into the more commerce-oriented district, Nells laid out plans for the rest of the reward. "We'll use the gold to purchase supplies and merchandise to sell at the Gate. We turn in a profit then we have more than enough for capital at the next trading season."
"Oh, but where to go first? We can head to the woolen mills by the Vale Gate. Summer shearing season and maybe even the auctions are already done but there's always unsold bales we can catch at a markdown; hold on to them in time to sell come fall and winter. Then off to Amberside market close by for spices, or even household ironmongery. Maybe some hitches and clasps. I saw new designs at the Gate before we left," Nells fired off, eyes growing manic with excitement at the prospect of purchasing wares for trade.
"You can buy the whole sardin' town if you want but how are we taking it to the Gate without my ship, huh? Repairs are gonna take days, weeks even, should the idiots put wagon wheels instead of boards to patch it up," Shar-Teel griped, snorting at the sight of a passing cart filled with wagon wheels in front of a shop of wagon wheels, one among the same in an entire block of wagon wheel stores.
"I know that. But we can consign our goods with other traders or hire a barge ourselves while we wait," Nells said, oblivious to the cramped expression on the other woman's face.
"So which of them is the better thing to do?" Irse asked, then wondered why Dotie glared at her while Shar-Teel seemed on the verge of a violent headache.
"A good question," Nells replied, beaming at the rare display of interest from another sentient being.
Explaining with equal parts fevered excitement and scholarly enthusiasm, she expounded on each option, outlining the advantages and drawbacks, profit margin computations. Not only that but depending on the arrangement, there were regulations governing such transactions yet a source of frustration for traders and transporters of goods everywhere since rules and fees and penalties differed in every port; Calimport being the most notorious for changing them without due notice. And then she went on with how perhaps the Gate could bring in more trade and make it easier for merchants if they standardized their rules and fees and minimized bureaucracy and irregularities and...
"Fascinating," Okami remarked in earnest, even as the other three members' eyes were glazing over.
"Where to next?" Irse piped up, hoping that the answer was to lunch.
Fortunately, Blackpost's Bench, a tankard house, wasn't too far and just along the same street. The group slipped inside and found the place near empty – not surprising since it was almost the second hour after noon. The interior was much like a simple inn's common room with its unadorned stone walls, low-ceiled with chandeliers repurposed from wagon wheels and bearing candles presently unlit, rough wooden tables and benches everywhere, and a raised platform which served as a makeshift stage for performing bards.
Irse's stomach rumbled at the savory aroma of quail roasting on spits over an open hearth. They were led by a halfling man to their seats while a half-orc lass deftly slid mugs of minted water cross the table and in front of them. As Nells counted out coin from her purse, the halfling informed them that the price per head was at two coppers.
"Per head? Not per plate?" Nells inquired as if surprised at some change.
The halfling man replied, "You heard right. 'Tis always slow business in the afternoon. We lure in a few more guests if we charge two coppers per patron instead of per plate as is customary. But only between the second bell and dusk or right before supper."
Nells nodded her understanding and the server left. "It seems we can have seconds or even more for the price of one. Usually it's even three coppers per head if there's a troubadour performing, but the house is quiet during these hours," she told Irse, pointing at the empty stage, apparently noting the expectant look on the girl's face.
"That's all right. We get visiting bards at Candlekeep too, every now and then," Irse said.
Only that all songs that may be performed at Winthrop's inn have to be pre-approved; no bawdy low-brow ditties, just standard fare ballads and epic chants suitable for the sensitive and discerning tastes of the scholarly and noble clientele.
Though that didn't stop Winthrop from singing along with his own waggish version of the words which often got Irse and Imoen suddenly laughing out loud in the middle of a serious concert; earning them another rebuke from Brother Nador for being such uncultured cretins.
Not too long, they were served crusty brown trenchers some parts blackened, bowls of rewarmed thin vegetable broth plain and without trimmings but generously garnished with parsley though the elf noted that the herbs were wilted and still in their stems, cut-up parts of fowl now cold from having been roasted earlier that day, and seared bacon and pork sausages both of whom were more fat than meat and swimming in runny peppered gravy.
Given the hour, their fare were clearly leftovers from the earlier busy lunch crowd.
Ravenous, Irse wolfed down her portions, not bothering to break the bread apart, slice the meat, and spoon the broth; instead opting to slurp the soup straight from the bowl, one hand stuffing her face with food while the other worked to reach over at the serving chargers and simultaneously restock her own plate.
Nells chuckled at the sight while Shar-Teel ignored everyone else, brooding and nursing her first and already overdue mug of beer for the day.
Dotie gaped, tankard of mead at her lips, pinky raised. "I dinnae think one o' ye poncy pointy-ears can be a draggle at eatin'," the dwarf mumbled, amazed.
"Take heed with the fork lest you puncture yourself," Okami cautioned his apprentice as he sipped his tea.
"This is the happiest day of my life," Irse declared, half-chewed bread muffling her words but euphoric, exultantly wagging a forked limp sausage, crumbs on chin, greasy slip of bacon dangling at the corner of her mouth and waving at the waitstaff to serve another round of food.
And another, and another, and another. And another after those.
There were more after that, but within the hour, the waitstaff suddenly announced that all meals and service must be put on hold due to a kitchen shutdown.
Why would a kitchen shut down unless the realms were about to go out in a fiery end, Irse arrogated.
To prepare the ingredients and ovens and hearths for the dinner crowd, the staff explained.
But dinner was still hours from now and is it not that a place so used to feeding so many should be working constantly and never have to run out of supplies, Irse pushed further, recalling the efficiency and ever-readiness of the Keep's own kitchens.
"And what about the quails roasting over there? Are you cooking the birds until they sprout feathers again and fly away while still on their spits?" Irse demanded, refusing to budge and yield her knife and plate.
But the half-orc serving girl seemed about ready to crumple the metal tray in her fully orcish hands that everyone else had then wisely decided to haul the elf up from her seat and push her out of the door themselves.
The crew finally left the tankard house, though Irse was still unconvinced. After that was a long walk to their inn, The Sign of the Silver Sword, but a necessary one for them to secure rooms for the night and leave their things behind, allowing them to go about their business unburdened.
The inn was quite large and well-built, surprisingly outclassing the one in Candlekeep with its sophisticated furniture, and the interior illuminated by globes of magelights set in intricate brass sconces and chandeliers. Wall-to-floor-to-ceiling lush carpeting deadened the noise from outside, dampening their normal conversation to almost whispers.
"Bet I can still make it echo in here," Irse dared the dwarf as they stood back, waiting for the others to make reservations at the front desk.
"Shaddup. I'd rather tear out the whole soddin' rug an' stuff 'em in my ears than hear one more babbling from yer flappers," Dotie growled.
The young elf cupped her mouth as if to shout towards a hallway, yet whispering audibly, "Dotie Likes 'Em Hunky- Dandy!"
Dotie stomped her foot but the carpet muffled all the indignation out of it.
"I dinnae!" she hissed then looked around, searching. "Now where be the echo you say?"
Irse shushed her, then slipped behind the dwarf and partly covered her mouth as she repeated, voice feigning a fading echo, "Dotie… Dotie… hunky-dandy… hunky-dandy…"
"By Marthammor Duin, ye be right… echoes," Dotie buzzed with awe. But then she looked up and noticed the elf sniggering behind her sleeve.
"Ye wily rascal! Ye thinkin' yer so canny! I oughtta' smash yer pointy skull on them plushy floors," the dwarf raged but was interrupted by a bop on her head.
"Hey! Do your skull-smashing outside. I'm not paying to clean anyone's brains out of these fancy rugs," Shar-Teel barked as she tossed them their keys, telling them likewise not to dally at locking up their belongings and to meet again at the lobby.
To Irse's delight, each were given their own rooms; no sharing with anyone, even if only for one night. The lodgings were just as tasteful as the lobby. Quiet, carpeted, a canopied bed, a mahogany writing desk with an upholstered chair, a washing stand, and instead of a chamber pot in a corner…
The elf slid an oaken panel at the wall to reveal a private garderobe! With a mechanical waterflush contraption, just like what a group of Lantanese gnomish inventors visiting the Keep once told her about! No having to leave the room in the dead of night to relieve oneself or empty the chamber pot at the common privy.
She tossed her pack on the bed and jumped in, appreciating the goose down featherbed, imagining herself on the clouds she would watch drifting past the moon as she sat on the tower roof back at the Keep.
The elf smoshed her face in the pillow, murmuring with happiness at its softness and plumpness.
A long way from the simple and bare comforts of home, she mused.
Such were the rewards for being heroes! One could get used to this.
Fireworks tonight by the Clearspring Tor, read the flyer in Irse's hand. It had been passed out by a town crier and she had asked the group if they could check it out after supper. The captain grudgingly agreed, only after Dotie added that peddlers at the park also sold alcohol there without limit.
"Sure, we can go tonight after we're done with our procurements. We could even have dinner there, like a picnic in the grass," Nells said with a smile.
Shar-Teel put a hand on Nells' shoulder. "Look here, I trust you anyways. Get anything you want but save some coin for later, maybe for a tavern or three."
"You're… you're not coming with me?"
"As captain of this crew, it's my job to… Whatever! I order you to take Dotie with you," Shar-Teel declared with abrupt and suspect gruff cheer, shoving the dwarf at the first mate.
"Clanggedin's clap-crusted beard!" Dotie cussed in surprise at being volunteered.
"What about Mister Okami and Irse?"
"Eh, them? Why, I'm chaperoning these two sops around the city. What kinda' captain am I if I let anything happen to our paying passengers?" Shar-Teel grabbed the blacksmith and the elf, wounding her muscled arms tight around each.
"Aren't we supposed to be helping her? And I thought we didn't have to pay anymore since Teacher beat you at the - hnnnnggg," Irse blurted out before wincing at a hard and painful squeeze on the shoulder.
Nells pursed her lips for a moment then shrugged. "Oh well, I don't need extra hands since we could have the merchandise delivered straight to the docks and any time we wish. And besides, they've worked hard the whole time and helped us so much; they do deserve a break," the first mate agreed.
"What 'bout me? Ye think I be idlin' on the boat like some loiter-sack the whole soddin' time?" Dotie grumbled.
"Now, now, Dotie. You heard the captain and it's best we start right away."
"Aye, let us be done with it so I can be gettin' m'self a grog sooner?"
"Of course not. We start now, this way we have more hours to look around and more things to buy!"
Nells grabbed Dotie by the wrist, cheerfully waving as she dragged the dwarf away like a mother taking a petulant child to the market.
"See you all at Clearspring Tor for dinner," she reminded them.
Dotie glanced back and shot them a look that screamed – help me you soddin' fools.
The others waved at the dwarf in sympathy.
"So! Seems like I'm stuck with you two," Shar-Teel drawled, arms still draped around them.
Okami beamed indulgently at his apprentice and the captain. "If we have no other purpose or errands at the moment, then we may use this time to see more of the city before we leave on the morrow," he suggested.
Irse rubbed her chin as she thought of the possibilities. "Maybe a peek into the shops, see if there's anything interesting?" she chanced, hoping that interesting for Shar-Teel would be wide enough to cover anything other than a drink and a tavern.
Shar-Teel ground her jaw and considered the proposal. "Yeah sure, hells why not." She knuckled Okami's cheek and buzzed in his ear.
"Hey, this town's got a couple of festhalls. Coin'll get ya a drink and a lady – or a boy if you want; hole's a hole. Or you can gimme me your drink since you don't seem to be living on anything other than water anyways."
A festhall! The young elf's eyes widened. An entire life spent behind the walls and by a library doesn't mean one doesn't hear about such places!
Irse glared at the captain for daring to suggest such a thing to her Teacher. Shar-Teel raised a bored eyebrow at the young elf and whispered to Okami who looked somewhat flummoxed.
"But you might wanna ditch granny over here, or she's gonna cramp our style," she needled.
"Har har," Irse muttered dryly.
With the city itself being too much to cover in one day alone, it was decided then that they would only explore the shops nearest their inn and along the route leading to Amberside.
As they strolled along, the captain brushed by the elf. Irse felt a small pouch pressed into her hand. She looked down and recognized it as the slaver guard's but somewhat weightier now with perhaps a couple of gold coins thrown in.
She glanced at Shar-Teel. The captain made a quick nod and then distanced herself once more. Irse grinned and put the money in her pocket, content with the discreet show of thanks.
A hero's reward, and all of them still in one piece, all well and good. The young elf breathed in, relieved, content yet excited.
There was a city out there to explore.
And this time, Irse vowed, she would stay by her Teacher's side and out of trouble.
… and then there were more scribblings :
Hangry Girl is a class kit similar to Berserker. Only more dangerous. A rampaging ravaging ravenous stomach that no longer knows friend from foe from food. Take ye heed.