Welcome to Aegis of Candlekeep Part III!

Our adventurers have just finished with the Bandit Camp and are recovering as they attempt to figure out what comes next!

BUT FIRST! I should tell you that Fabulous Foster Father Flashback season has returned, in it's traditional italics!

...

The People

...

Xan was down for the count. He still sat at Branwen's bed side, as he had intended to watch over her. But at some point he'd laid his elbow down upon the sheets; and eventually he'd placed his cheek down upon his elbow; and, well, after that sleep had happened quite without his say-so. His other hand still held firmly to the hilt of his naked Moonblade.

As she peeked in the temple inpatient room to check on them, Aegis couldn't help but smile tiredly. She came up first to check on Branwen, and noted that the heavily bandaged woman seemed to have greatly improved both in color and respiration. She was sleeping more peacefully now. Aegis placed a hand temporarily on the war-cleric's hair. Then she looked to Xan, who had tried so valiantly to remain awake. His posture looked terribly uncomfortable; like a limp noodle had been tucked up against the side of the bed.

Aegis shook her head. She closed a hand over his, and quietly got the Moonblade sheathed. Then she stooped and eased a hand under his legs and another around his back. He didn't so much as twitch as she picked him up and turned to carry him out.

"W-wait-"

Aegis jumped and twisted about to see Branwen was just barely conscious. Her eyes were heavy, and she clearly didn't have the strength to sit. She'd lifted a hand, though, and was holding it just a few inches off the bed. The ranger blinked in surprise. Then she turned and came back up beside the injured war cleric. She spooned Xan onto the bed beside her, helped Branwen scoot over a few inches, and then settled the other woman's arm around him such that no injuries were being aggravated.

When everything was as it ought to be, the cleric dropped her head back down with a sigh. "Thanks," she mumbled raw to Aegis, who smiled.

"You should have seen your wizard," the ranger whispered. "He planted himself over you and fought off two chargers and a gnoll single-handedly before anyone else could get there."

Branwen smiled faintly. "Really?" she croaked in a small voice.

Aegis nodded. "Get well," she encouraged, and then she stood and tiptoed out of the room.

...

[Waterdeep, 20 years ago]

When the crying began, Khelben Arunsun; Master of Blackstaff Tower, Chosen of Mystra, Renown Harper, and Archmagus of Waterdeep; gave a heavy sigh.

"Right on schedule," he determined, standing up out of the arm chair with his morning cup of chicory in one hand and his mail trailing behind him in a current of unopened envelopes. He strode over to the infant's cradle with the aid of his staff, and then peered reproachfully downward once he'd reached its side. "Good morning, Tiny Monster," he greeted the girl.

Little Aegis pouted up at him, as his was not the precise elderly face which she had hoped to see. She wiggled and kicked in displeasure for a moment, mussing up her tufts of bright golden hair. She gummed on her fingers and blanket.

Khelben took a sip of his chicory; it was scarcely dawn. "If my calculations are correct," he informed her, "Gorion is currently out in town to purchase groceries. From our previous experience on the matter, and taking into account that today is the first Saturday of the month, I believe we may expect him back at no later than twelve."

She mumbled inquisitively.

"Yes, yes; even if he stops to augment your ever-increasing collection of toys. An estimate of ten and a half bells would no doubt be nearer to accurate. What say you to that?"

Aegis hummed almost thoughtfully around her blanket. Khelben took another sip of his chicory, waiting expectantly. Aegis looked up at him again with her eyebrows pinched together in an incredibly troubled way; and for a moment he was convinced that this would be one of those loud mornings. Then abruptly she gave a tiny happy murmur, and she flailed about in an excited manner that suggested she both recognized the archmagus and was happy to see him there.

Khelben affected to look unmoved by her display of recognition. But after a moment he released his cup to join his floating envelopes, and left his staff standing on it's lonesome, and he leaned over to pull the plump little girl out of her cradle. He bounced her gently a few times and then attempted to scowl at her delighted smile.

"You know it's not healthy for a man to remain cooped up in a tower his whole life," the Archmagus lectured her. "Even a wizard! The only reason I don't tell him about how you bawl the whole time he's gone is because then I don't think he'd ever leave even to go shopping. People need fresh air."

Aegis tugged on his hair, still beaming delightedly.

"And the only reason I've taken it upon myself to come down here and coddle you is because I am lord of the tower, and I am aware of what goes on on in my tower where anyone else would be deaf and blind. And you make an incredibly unpleasant racket, you know? Howling for hour after hour after hour."

"Ua!" the child told him.

"Well yes. I am able to selectively ignore things," he admitted. "But that's beside the point! What sort of man ignores a crying baby? Particularly a man who has fathered children of his own?"

"Bwu."

"Precisely," he sniffed. "Making you a terrible handful. Do you realize how many trips I've turned down recently just so one traumatized man can get fresh air and attend to his own grocery shopping?" He shook a finger at her. "Not to mention I risk his suspicion and confusion should he realize anyone is seeing to you without his knowledge!"

"Aba?"

"No, no; I can't volunteer to babysit you while he's gone, particularly if he presumes you sleep soundly the whole while! I am an archmage, child, my time is valuable!" He chose one of her animal dolls and placed it into her hands. "See what a handful you are?"

"Uu."

Khelben sighed resignedly and settled back down into the arm chair, calling forth his chicory for another sip and then returning to his mail. His staff hopped along after him. Aegis gummed happily on her doll and turned it about in circles. After a moment, she looked up at him with concern.

"Deuaba?"

"Mm? What? Again? Bah. Very well," he submitted, "I'll read them aloud. Boring as they may be. This one is from..."

...

Ajantis and Viconia looked up at Aegis as she returned, and Dynaheir stepped forward tiredly. "How are they?" the Wychlaran inquired.

"Looks like Bran'll be fine," Aegis informed them. "Everyone should get some sleep."

Dynaheir shook her head wordlessly. "I am going for a walk around the garden," she answered, and then she shuffled off. Both Minsc and a very groggy Viconia each tried to rise and follow her, but she waved for them not to get up.

Aegis frowned, coming up to stand beside a confused-looking Rashemi beserker. I'll need to talk to her soon. She looked down at the bald man. "Go follow her anyway," she told him. "I'm not entirely convinced we're all safe yet."

Minsc blinked at her and then seemed incredibly thankful to be given instruction. He nodded solemnly and got up to follow his charge.

With a sigh, Aegit turned to check on Shar-Teel. The fightress was unconscious and still covered in large quantities of other peoples' blood. She'd slept the majority of the ride to Beregost, and had passed out again shortly after their arrival.

"Shar-Teel is fine," Ajantis reassured their leader, who paused. "Just tired." The paladin was clearly not ready for bed; and to keep sane, he had set to preparing his arms and armor for mending at the Thunderhammer Smithy. Viconia sat beside him, her eyes closed against the brightness of day.

"I wonder," the drow drawled of their paladin. "Do you think Shar-Teel will remember she rode with you all the way back?"

Ajantis shuddered and made a sign against evil in the air in front of him. Viconia peered at this and chuckled. She pulled her blankets more tightly around her, and then listed slightly to the side. Ajantis grasped her shoulder just before she fell over. She grimaced slightly, opening one red eye. The paladin eased his arm around her and gave her a little pat. Without thinking much about it, she scooted into him and pillowed her head against his side.

Aegis watched the paladin for a moment, a smirk tugging at her lips. Then she turned and stepped over to where she'd lain Kivan down temporarily upon her palette. She knelt, ran a hand gently over the wild elf's hair, and then began stripping off his borrowed armor. When she saw he was wearing little real clothing underneath, she tried to remember which of her companions was about his size. The two closest are Branwen and Edw- Aegis grimaced. After a moment, she decided Khalid most likely wouldn't mind if she nicked a tunic and leggings.

Kivan had a few cuts and more than a few bruises. She gingerly reached over to appraise a thick swath of purple at his side. Busted ribs.

Approaching footsteps startled her, and she looked up to see Viconia. The drow paused beside her, looking across the extent of Kivan's mottled white scarring for the first time. Aegis tensed, grabbing at the palette blanket and pulling it partially over him for decency's sake. "Hey Viccy, don't," the big woman protested.

Viconia raised her hands submissively. "I will not mention them to him, or to anyone," she said tiredly. "Was this the half-ogre's work?" Aegis frowned and did't answer. Viconia looked up at her. "I... I only wish to help you tend to him," she explained haltingly. "You know I do not echo his hatred of me."

Aegis frowned. Viconia tended to be a trouble locus even when she was on her best behavior. Still, this was likely the drow's way of 'apologizing' for her actions in Ulcaster, and Aegis had no doubt she'd confuse and disorient Viconia if she scolded her or turned her away. "Alright. I want to ask you about his hands. But if he wakes up, run."

...

When they had finished bandaging Kivan's ribs and other injuries, and Aegis had properly clothed him, Viconia picked up one of his hands and examined the condition of his finger stubs. "He was using a bow in this condition?" she wondered.

"He killed Tazok," Aegis agreed. "Can a cleric fix them?"

"Without the severed fingers to reattach, it will be difficult. But yes, I think so. Using the right components." She settled his arm down. "Does it matter, if he intends to die?" Aegis gave the drow a dirty look. Viconia considered the expression. "I was wondering if you might be able to explain something else to me," she said after a moment. "Why is Dynaheir upset? She was victorious."

Aegis glanced after the direction Dyn had disappeared in. Then she sighed, and set to tucking Kivan into the blankets. "She didn't want to kill someone she knew."

"Why? There was no warmth there. He was her enemy, and a particularly satisfying roach to crush. At the very least, his death was required to ensure her survival," Viconia reminded her.

Aegis scratched her chin and then shrugged. "Let's say you travel with us for a few months in peace. Then, suddenly, you go on a murderous rampage sacrificing orphans to Shar. Well, Ajantis would be obligated to kill you. And if he succeeded, he'd be acting pretty similar to Dyn afterwards."

Something the ranger said must have resonated with Viconia because she nodded. "You mean to say that Dynaheir was dismayed to watch anyone pass the point of redemption?"

Redemption? Aegis grunted in agreement, reminding herself that Xzar wasn't the only person with a terrible history and many tales best left untold. After a moment, she stood and dusted off her hands. Viconia rose and turned to rejoin Ajantis. "Hey, there's something I've been meaning to ask you, Viconia. Do you... resent being dragged around on all these 'adventures' just because you don't know where else to go?"

Viconia blinked as if surprised by the query. "No," she answered, and she sounded remarkably earnest.

...

When Aegis approached him, Xzar glanced up at her. He was tired, she saw, but his harlequin facepaint helped accentuate a not-entirely-friendly mirth she saw in his eyes. The greasepaint had held up well, even after so much rain. He was leaning against a pillar apart from the group, and appeared to have been talking to himself. Pretzels was curled up in his arms.

"Helllooo, my Moaratuk," the necromancer greeted in a low and over-accentuated voice. "How's your cute little wolf-elf? Tucked away securely in your bed, mm? Wrapped up and lavished in mummy's tender, wuving care?"

Aegis slowed her stride, looking at the necromancer curiously. She took a moment to try and figure out what precisely she'd just walked into.

"Your boot lace is untied," the agitated wizard informed her.

Aegis looked down. So it was. She knelt and set to lacing it. "Alright Kettle, I'll bite: What's bothering you?" she asked him.

"Well!" he exclaimed with a dramatic flourish, standing upright and letting Pretzels hop to the ground. "I merely wanted some clarification on the aforementioned sylvan! I asked you outside of Beregost when he shot arrows at us, did I not? Yes? No?"

Aegis looked up at him in surprise. Xzar was gushing dramatically and sibilantly through sentence after sentence.

"Are you enamored with the pretty green doggy? Are you after a morsel of fae? Miss goody-two-shoes-goody-goody-pants: I would like to inform you that a warning or acknowledgement might have been nice; perhaps a two-weeks notice of termination of employment; a hint; or a perhaps a scavenger game-"

As she finished tying her laces, Aegis propped her elbow up on her knee and leaned her chin against her palm. Her expression got more and more amused as he went along.

"I even would have even taken a message rendered in interpretive dance conducted by beetles under a-" he paused as he noticed she was not upset, and his tirade trailed off. Then he fidgeted uncertainly. "Well, what? What's that face? I know it not, and I have seen many. Wait! I do know it! Is that the addrifyingly teorable face? Have I done something cute? No; preposterous, I was only-!"

"Oh you are absolutely adriffying teorable, mister death wizard," Aegis drawled slyly.

Xzar frowned, trying to take this new information into account. Abruptly he no longer looked serpentine or venomous. "Well that is odd," he hummed, placing his hands thoughtfully upon his hips. "I was expecting more verbal sparring... A little yelling; a healthy dose of passive aggressiveness; and- hmm..."

"Are you jealous?" she asked with smug and adoring wonder. "Am I actually looking at 'Xzar's rendition of The Insecure Boyfriend in A Minor' right now?"

The necromancer put his arms behind his back and rubbed one uncertainly against the other. He writhed and wiggled in place, clearly not knowing what to say. "Well... well you know I was- I was thinking it could be a major key. They aren't so bad you know. E, there are some very good tunes in E Major... "

"Granted," she agreed, standing up slowly and coming over to the necromancer.

"There was that one," he thought, "how did it go...?"

"Don't. sing." Aegis suggested with a grin, lifting her hands and moving them about his waist that she might grab his forearms and bring them back out in front of them again. The necromancer frowned, lowering his head and curling his posture sort of nervously. He pouted up at her, uncertain what to think. Still, he pressed the issue:

"It... I... Ehm... Well technically speaking, you are both rangers. And... well... he doesn't try to eat Harpers? And, ehm, well you do like saving people from themselves, so there is that..."

"That greasepaint held up surprisingly well," she remarked, lifting a hand to grasp his chin and tilting his head up for examination. The glasgow smile had been smudged slightly on one side, but the spade over his eye was still perfect, as were the dots above his opposite brow. "It didn't run at all, and we just went through a tempest. Remind me to ask the Mirrorshades the next time I need any form of paint."

"Are you even listening to me?" he muttered vexedly. "Do you have leaves in your brain again? Honestly, this is so like you, sometimes! One day its all fun and word games, and then the next it's:" his voice rose into a shrill falsetto, "Oh I want to talk Xzar, I want to discuss important things!" his voice lowered again and he threw up his arms, "But it's a trap and then-!"

"And then what?" she asked, running her thumb tenderly over his lower lip and tracing along the glasgow smile. The necromancer swallowed, his eyes widening appreciatively at her. There was no one in the world quite as skilled in distracting him as his Nature Childe.

"Well... then typically we have sex on a dresser," he admitted, mouth dry.

"I see," she considered, stepping closer to blot out the rest of the world. "And does my voice really sound like that?"

"No. No it does not," he confessed. "Yours is a dry but noteworthy alto." Then he abruptly trembled, and he raised his hands appraisingly to her own. "How do you know to do that, Moaratuk?" he mumbled quietly into her fingers.

Aegis let him keep her hands for the moment. "The smile?" she she wondered. He nodded mutely into her fingers, gazing off at nothing and appearing quite spooked. "Ehm... Curiosity, trial and error, listening for a unnecessarily loud shriek of 'Stop Touching Me,' and then watching your face. Frankly, you feature a fantastically forthcoming face, my frazzled Fool."

Xzar blinked thoughtfully for a few moments. Then he lowered her hands from his mouth to confirm: "So you don't climb in my head and steal my thoughts?"

"Not usually," she assured him.

"I see." The necromancer considered as he dropped his head again. "So everything is up to me, then."

Aegis detached one of her hands and waved it in front of his face. Xzar looked up at her foggily, as if she were literally waving aside some miasma. "Last time I saw you jealous, you were evicting Garrick from the dirt on my left hand side," she remembered jovially. "And you built a tiny castle and stuck a flag with an 'X' on it in the castle."

Her necromancer blinked slowly. Then he snorted out a giggle, closed his eyes, and raised his hands quickly to cover his face. "It... it made sense at the time!" he assured her. "It did!"

Aegis' eyes widened. "Are you blushing?" she cooed excitedly, trying to get him to lower his hands so she could see his face. He refused her, giggling harder and shaking his head. She pulled him into a hug instead, and he nestled happily into her.

"We-we have changed!" he claimed, twisting about in her arms to lean his back into her chest. She kisses his temple and held him to her gratefully. "We have changed a lot! I am more anchored, obviously... But you..."

"Mm? How have I changed?" she wondered doubtfully of the madman, rocking them both gently form side to side.

"On the Lion's Way, I met a frightened and awkward child fresh out from under daddy's skirts; a kitten," he told her. "Now here stands a woman men fear and trust; a lioness. Yes, lioness, that's a good word: You are even golden to match it."

Aegis looked both doubtful and a little unsettled. "It's only been a few months, she disagreed.

"Oh, I think for you it has been years," he disagreed. "And for me a few months turned tremendously transformative! No?"

The ranger was quiet, frowning down at nothing.

Xzar frowned and lifted his fingers gently to her chin. Her gaze flit immediately to him, and he saw that while her brows were creased with stress, her expression was open and trusting. He shuddered reflexively and pet over her hair. "The Nature Childe is looking pensive now. Is there anything her Fool might do to help ease her mind?"

"I..." she hesitated. "I have no one left to take care of," she admitted. "People might be in danger and I just left them out there. The last time I left someone behind was-"

Xzar gave her a tender little smack upon the cheek to get her attention. "My dear," he told her wryly, "the only danger Imoen is in with Jaheira is the danger of having her ear nagged off. You were our leader, and you delegated as was needed." When she seemed unconvinced, he tutted. "Come now, come now, Little Death. You can't do everything; It's not like you're a god."

Aegis narrowed her eyes at him, a tolerant 'I see what you did there' expression quirking at the corners of her mouth.

He smiled charmingly and cupped her jawline. "Remember why you needed to move so briskly: we barely brought a bawling Xan's breviloquent beauty, Branwen, back to Beregost in time."

"You mean: before her bravely born burns could bury the buxom blonde?" Aegis queried.

Xzar sighed delightedly as he wrapped his arms about hers, and he wondered: "How does a woman with a head full of leaves become fond of words, my Deva?"

"She must well educated and like historical literature," Aegis suggested. "Around half of which ends up recorded in verse." Then she hugged him tightly all of a sudden, and buried her face into his graham hair.

Xzar took in a slow breath, considering this. "Moaratuk, I have one other question. Perhaps insensitive? Bad timing? No; see, it is on her mind already; nostalgia should be measured, not bottled. Very well, I will make the attempt: Aegis, If you could ask your father- the Harper father- one question now that you are 'grown,' what would it be?"

Without thinking, Aegis answered: "I'd ask for him what every word of every book he'd ever read was."

Xzar was rightly baffled by the reply. "For what purpose?"

"There are no easy answers," the ranger answered quietly. "So, if I could only ask one question, I'd rather just have an excuse to hear his voice for as long as possible."

The necromancer deflated thoughtfully, his gaze drifting. "You loved the old monk a great deal..."

She shrugged her heavy shoulders. "He loved me first."

Xzar felt vaguely guilty and glanced briefly back to the pillar where he had been leaning. Pretzels was peering curiously up at the opposite side. Best not to draw attention to it. There was something else he ought to ask his lady... something even more important. Xzar wet his lips. "I recall you did not handle Kagain's death well."

Aegis flinched.

"Mm. Well, we're now short an extraordinarily amusing and pompous red wind bag. How do you feel about dear Edwin's betrayal and death? Or does it affect you less when yours isn't the hand to strike the final blow?"

Aegis was quiet a moment. "What if I told you that I don't think he's dead?"

...

{That is absolutely disgusting,} the Thayvian informed her in his native Mulhorandi. {You are telling me that whenever they are available, you crumple up latrine tissues in a wad before wiping? Were you born in a barn?}

Imoen threw her arms in the air. {It maximizes distance from the fingers by using air space, dummy! What about you- you fold them? What, like napkins then? Stuff bleeds through napkins ya know!}

{Not if you pay attention to what you are doing! You just smash a random bundle together and hope for the best-!}

"Much as I hate to interrupt what must be an absolutely riveting conversation," Jaheira began dryly, "but what exactly do you intend on saying to the group once we've arrived?"

Edwin and Imoen jumped and looked back at her mid-gesticulation. "Ehrm," the former collected himself. "The, eh, druid... raises a valid point." Imoen had missed his dramatically flourished 'r's, and the one in 'druid' was definitely one of his best.

"Ayup," the thief agreed. "We need a plan."

Jaheira snorted. She'd decided long ago against informing either of the two children than she was proficient in Mulhorandi. "That you do. Dynaheir will be no more impressed by either of your words this time than last."

"We should go straight to Aeg," Imoen stressed. "She'll at least listen to the whole story now that things aren't so urgent, and she'll gather the others to have them listen, too."

Edwin crossed his arms over his chest and looked unconvinced. "She welcomed Dynaheir back into the group without question, right after the woman broke our golden rule against infighting and tried to murder me. (Ungrateful cur.) And then she agreed with all these fools that killing me was a necessity. Does that sound unbiased?"

"Okay, listen here mister grumpy-entitled-muttering-pants: you have one of the meanest, rudest, least sympathetic, most arrogant manners of speaking that I have ever heard from anyone," she rebuked him in a sassy voice. "You provoked Dyn-dyn; it was never entirely clear to anyone who hit who else first; and you had blatantly let everyone know you intended to kill her. What do you think anyone's going to read out of that? You think you made it easy to believe that she started it?"

"Eh..." he hesitated, scratching at his jawline. He desperately needed better circumstances under which to groom himself.

"In short, you are a terrible speaker," the druid informed him sagely. "Which is remarkable, given how frequently you run your mouth..."

Brown eyes narrowed at her: "And am I to be lectured on it by an overbearing harpy matron-"

"Oh come on, ya provoke people constantly!" Imoen continued, waggling her arms. "I mean, half the time it's clear you intend to; but the other half of the time, Iunno, ya seem to be completely oblivious! It's like this: you have two modes in conversation and they're just 'Wheedle' and 'Demean.' "

"Look, foolish child, I did not survive so long in this world and somehow fail to learn how to keep my foot of my mouth-!"

"You are not currently in Thay," the druid prodded him in the chest with her staff. "Mouth-feet look different here. And what you might deem civil conversation is not going to earn you friends on the morrow."

"Yes, and why the devil would I want friendship from you again?" Edwin growled, eyeing the half-elf suspiciously. "You simians nearly killed me. As it was over a misunderstanding, I can graciously overlook-"

"He's doomed," Imoen sighed in an excellent mimicry of Xan's voice. "Well, no, he'll Dimension Door out before anyone can kill him. But my mentorship is so doomed, and I'm going to be completely alone and bored and miserable again."

Jaheira sighed. "Why, oh why, did you pick this self-important fool to teach you magic?" she asked.

"Hey, I like him!" Imoen defended her wizard with a cheeky grin. "His abrasiveness is part of his charm. Also, he had nice hair. We're working on that."

"Oh is that so? Well, I'm enlightened on the ever-expanding realm of personal taste," Jaheira muttered. "Though I am somewhat concerned yours is masochistic."

"Hey!" both Pink and Red complained, and then looked bewildered at one another.

Edwin scowled. "Are you both finished?" he demanded.

Imoen grabbed his arm and tugged him forward to join them. "You stop being offended, and focus!" she chastised him. "You're terribly smart, so put that genius intellect into figuring out how you're going to keep an incredibly offended and suspicious party from murdering you!"

"And what would you monkeys have me say but the truth? Undermine Viconia? Point out the witch has been less than honest with-"

"Oh don't be all buffleheaded; You have to say the truth in the right way!" Imoen beamed. "A disarming way!"

Edwin twitched. "Wait, wait. You would have me behave disarmingly?" he asked her very dryly. "Excuse me, but do I look like a bouncy, pink girl to you? (Honestly, why am I listening to-)" Imoen pinched him.

"Well would it help if we removed your arm again, or are you requesting to be castrated?" Jaheira inquired. Edwin gave her a dirty look. "We all took watch looking out for you after Nashkel, Red Wizard," the druid reminded him. "We did not leave you to perish then. If you wish to accompany Imoen any further than Juggler's front door mat, then you are offering to accompany us. And as we are a team, you owe us one damned polite explanation."

The Thayvian wasn't sure what to make of that advice, but he straightened a little. "I have no problem with contributing my powers to the group or pulling my weight. And as I believe I've said; I did not ever intend to fight the party. Our goals align, and I have no quarrel with any of you, so I do not see the problem."

Jaheira planted her staff in the dirt and twisted to face him, a hand upon her opposite hip. Edwin came up short behind her, uncertain whether or not she intended to provoke a fight.

Instead she leaned forward, and fixed him with an almost amused expression. "You truly are so clueless?" the half-elf wondered. "How about this: you carried off a beserker's last surviving immediate family member on the back of a horse, with the pretense of enslaving her and bringing her back to your homeland as some perverse form of trophy. Do you think the revelation of your true intentions will somehow immediately expunge the memory of terrified fury from Aegis' mind?"

The Thayvian's face creased in dismay. "Ehm... well..."

Jaheira smirked, and in a very sweet voice said: "Good luck sugarcoating that, Edwin." Then she chuckled and continued walking.

Imoen looked up at Edwin.

"I do not think 'Nice' is my strongest suite," the conjurer decided in a strained voice.

Imoen raised a brow. "Your strongest suite?" she asked incredulously. "You use a deck that has Nice in it? What the hells have you been discarding!?"

Edwin looked at her, and then made as if to hold up an invisible rummy hand. He turned it to face her, and Imoen had to school her face to utmost sincerity lest she bust out laughing. Was he actually playing with her? "I have a three of Nice. What can I do with that?"

"Wait for a two, four, five, and six?" she suggested hopefully.

Edwin looked dismayed at his 'cards.' "But I have a Royal Flush in 'Burn Everything to the Ground'," he lamented.

She sighed high and nodded understandingly as she linked her elbow with his and patted his arm: "Ah, when all one has is a hammer..."

...

[Calimshan, 20 Years earlier]

It was only noon, but Tallix Snapdragon was enjoying a glass of wine by herself in the dimmest corner of the inn. The exterior light was blocked out by heavy shutters and carpet drapes, and the atmosphere was cozy enough. She had her feet kicked up as she hummed Brown Little Nightingale. She was buffing out a hangnail from work that morning.

Beside her knee sat a plate with a lone slice of cake (Yes, only one, she'd assured the innkeeper, who had never heard of a halfling ordering 'one' of anything) with a single candle burning away. The numerals "86" had been stabbed clear through the top of the little slice.

Well, she'd be visiting Moonsea now. Plenty of time to step in and say hello; to see who was home, and who was out, and who might actually be dead this time.

"You're Nightal's eldest child lil' gale,
Sing beckon coming icy rose, over crumpling leaves..."

The doors of the inn swung open, and Tallix barely glanced up as two half-elves entered. "Khalid..." one murmured, as the other swiftly obtained a strong order of drink.

"Tremble o'er the murmurous haunt,
of flies on autumn's passing eves..."

Tallix finished with her nails as the half-elves shifted about and found their seat. She tucked away her nail file and pulled out her pipe, and began to properly pack it with leaf. Khalid... Khalid, Khalid, Khalid; where had she heard that name? No... Was she about to get lucky?

"I don't know why I even come back anymore," the male half-elf broke the silence at last. "I don't know what I even..."

"Shh, shh..." the female told him. "Don't talk like that, Khalid; fatalism doesn't become you."

Tallix picked up the last remains of her sad birthday candle, and tipped it to light her pipe. She spent some time situating it to her liking, and puffing gently to get the leaf smoking.

"This feels like home and yet does not," the one called Khalid admitted. "Next year or the year after, my father might not be alive to come home to. But... every time he just... just... and now, to disapprove of you, Jaheira, when all my life he-"

Tallix tilted her head back, and breathed out a stream of smoke. Jaahheeira. A smirk tugged the corner of the elderly halfling's face. She knew that name. The devil was 'Rion's thing for pretty half-elves...?

"Well, he is a merchant. I am a druid..." the woman, Jaheira, mused. "I did not take it personally..."

"I did," Khalid sighed into his drink.

A commotion rose up outside. One of the few bar patrons got up and went to the door to listen. Then his eyes widened. "They say there's been a murder!" he called; and indeed that appeared to be what the people outside were yelling. Of course there were murders all the time in the streets Calimshan, which had bred some of the world's greatest and most notorious information brokers, and assassins. Tiggerwillies was a good example of the former; and as for the latter...

Well, regardless, it must have been quite a murder.

The Harpers stood up and made their way to the doors that they might ask questions. Tallix tapped out her pipe, took a big bite out of her cake, and then swung her boots to the floor. She stood up in no particular hurry, dusted off her cloak, and went to pay for her meal. She left as casually as she had come.

She was following in the Harper duo's shadows within thirty seconds.

...

Aegis watched as Dynaheir finally entered, and Minsc steered her off to bed. The ranger loosed a heavy breath. Her necromancer giggled.

Xzar was sitting on a pillow at Aegis feet. He had worked the blood out of her hair and wiped her face of greasepaint. Then he'd stripped her down out of her armor and was soaking her hands and feet in warm water while he helped to get her clean. Her fingers were busted up in places from glancing injuries; and blistered in places they were not sufficiently calloused.

"Thanks for taking care of me," she told him after a moment. "I guess I was a mess."

"T'was my right. Even leaders need coddling," the necromancer teased sleepily. Then he blinked rapidly when Aegis once more perked up. After a moment, he twisted about to see an unexpected person in stylish leathers was approaching them. The man had his arms crossed over his chest in a comfortable and cocksure way, and his indolent smirk had returned in force.

"Well, well, well. Fancy meeting you here, m'lady," the man purred.

Xzar's upper lip curled, and he felt an unspoken growl building up in his belly.

"Eldoth Kron," Aegis intoned warily. "I thought you intended to go your seperate way..."

"And well I did; so I'll suppose it's entirely coincidence we both came here then," he agreed. "But now I've my proper boots and trappings; my bow; my lute... And you've gone and decapitated an entire camp of bandits. It seems our deal worked out to both our liking's. Perhaps we should conspire again in the future?"

"How about you come out and say whatever it is you want," she suggested.

"Oh, no need to bristle so," the bard assured her. "I will be heading on to Beregost once I've purchased some minor healing supplies. I suppose you might head that way by tomorrow? Well, either way: look me up if you have need of palatable company or far-reaching ears."

"I thought you were heading to Baldur's Gate."

"I intend to," he agreed. "But that might... not resolve itself as fast as you'd think," he put it delicately. "See: Word from the bandits is they closed the city gates a few days back. And if it took them this long to close the door, well, think how long it might take them to open it again."

Aegis considered this news.

"And what do you intend on doing in the meanwhile?"

He shrugged. "Well far be it from me to sully the reputation Shar-Teel has no doubt cut for me as a freeloader; but I was working at as an escort and caravan guard before we were waylaid by bandits. I do, m'lady, actually earn my own keep." He smiled.

Aegis settled a little. After a moment, she nodded.

"Well, that is all, I think," the bard decided. "I'll not take any more of your time. A pleasure doing business with you, Aegis of Candlekeep." He bowed out.

Aegis watched the bard depart, and then eventually looked down at her necromancer. He was twisted and hunched beside her legs like a starved and bitterly territorial howler demon. A smirk dragged across her face. "Well now you're just being silly."

...

Onward Ho!