The Legacy: Reboot, Chapter 5

Chapter Five

When Jarlaxle and Entreri came to collect the fee for getting the Skulkers out of the poison business, they could tell something was up. Shael and Eroan exchanged significant glances with each other. Mistress Tauvaul handed over the gold readily enough, but Jarlaxle didn't feel free to go.

As a result of his hovering, Shael commented to her sister, "If you're going to ask then you may as well ask now."

Jarlaxle bowed. "If there is anything you wish to ask, please do. We invite your openness."

Tauvaul sighed.  "Indeed.  Well, then, I have a smaller job for you, should you be willing to accept it.  The half-elf you saved, Laudriel, has a twin sister named Nlaea.  Nlaea, according to our spies, will be sold by Flygon's estate today.  Laudriel has arranged to pay us if we will front the gold to have her sister's freedom bought.  However, Flygon's widow is quite well aware of who we are, as is his uncle, who will be running the auction.  They will recognize some of our guildmembers, and they will be suspicious of any woman who attempts to buy Nlaea.  They would only sell to a male buyer."

Entreri's brow furrowed.  "Did you just tell us that Flygon's widow . . . is a man?"

Tauvaul smirked.

Entreri sighed.

Jarlaxle was surprised as well, but he hid his reaction. "Naturally we will play the part of the purchaser in the plan to assure Nlaea's freedom. Given that we may have been observed last time, I will disguise my identity, and Entreri should do the bidding."   He asked delicately, "Is price an object or is there no limit to how high the bidding goes, as long as the result is Nlaea's freedom?"  

"Do your best to keep it under control, but Laudriel is willing to work off her debt for the rest of her life if necessary," Eroan said.

Entreri was shocked that such family loyalty actually existed.  Assuming, of course, that Laudriel was telling the truth.  Clearly the Tauvaul sisters thought so, though, or they wouldn't be hiring them.  "And our payment?"

"Laudriel said you paid about 800 gold for her, so we'll give you 1000 gold," Eroan said.  "We promise to pay you 200 gold, but if you spend less than 800, you may keep the rest."

Entreri nodded.  He supposed it was acceptable.  "When and where?"

"Noon," Eroan said.  "Auction Block A."

Jarlaxle nodded. "That will give us plenty of time to prepare." He tipped his hat. "By two o’clock we expect to bring back Nlaea with us. If possible I would like Lady Shael and Laudriel to be in the common room when we arrive. Is this a reasonable request?"

"Certainly," Eroan said.  "And it is easily arranged."

Shael presented them with the gold, which Jarlaxle once again accepted, and then she led them out.  He noticed that Shael gave him a rather extra-friendly smile at the door and wondered if she might make a pass at him at some point.  If she were going to, he would be quickly making clear that he did not do S&M.

On the way back to their flat, Jarlaxle asked, "Are there any supplies we need so that you may sufficiently disguise yourself? I assume you would like to be discrete as well."

"Just an oversized shirt," Entreri said.  "Unless you offer me magic, I'll just use basic supplies to disguise myself."

Jarlaxle nodded. "I will be taking non-magical measures as well. While magic creates a more complete transformation on the surface, it is also more easily detected by anyone with enough perception and familiarity with magic."

When they passed through the nearby marketplace, Entreri acquired a shirt and Jarlaxle bought a Skulker hat and oiled poncho. The wooden, wide-brimmed hat would do much to alter his appearance. The Skulker poncho was added insurance.

They went back to their flat with their goods discretely stowed in gunny sacks. Once they were safely inside Jarlaxle asked, "Do you think it prudent to imbed ourselves in the crowd early and pretend to bid on various slaves with intent to buy? Should we stand together or apart when we are there? Let us plan."

Entreri took off his cloak, surcoat, and shirt, stealing the sheet off his bed and fashioning it around his waist and upper body.  He secured it with several strings, then slipped the shirt on over it.  He had succeeded in making himself appear much heavier.  "Imbed and pretend, yes.  I should stand alone when I bid on Nlaea, but don't get too far away in case something goes wrong."

Jarlaxle nodded. "Given that our only payment for this is in my hat, I think I'll do a little light sabotaging." He smiled. "Drow are notorious for being hyper-alert to any signs of ill health. If I claim that Nlaea shows signs of illness, perhaps some early signs of something fatal, like consumption, that should dissuade others from bidding too much on her."  He took off his hat, laid it on his bed, and replaced it with the Skulker hat. Then he took off his rainbow cape and threw on the oiled poncho.  Then he fished the bag of gold out of his discarded hat and gave it to Entreri.

"Sounds like a good idea."  Entreri painstakingly fed the gold into his smaller pouch of holding.  Carrying much gold in a normal pouch was too bulky and heavy.  He'd picked up a hat during their trek to Waterdeep, but since he didn't need it underground, he hadn't worn it since his arrival.  He donned it now, pulling it low to hide most of his features.  Then he pulled on his cloak again.

Jarlaxle nodded approvingly. "An excellent disguise, my friend." He snapped his fingers and took off his eye patch. "I almost forgot. This thing is like second nature by now." The drow mercenary chuckled and stowed it in his discarded hat. After pulling out a few odds and ends from his hat and stuffing them in his pockets, he declared, "I am ready to go to the auction."

By the time they reached the slave market and integrated themselves in the crowd, it was three hours until the auction of Flygon's assets. Entreri and Jarlaxle wandered aimlessly for about half an hour, getting a feel for the crowd, and then went to work, bidding low amounts in different auctions and in the same auction against each other to establish their separateness. Anyone making a day of the slave auctions would assume they were strangers to each other.

Jarlaxle thought Entreri was establishing himself as a bit of a skinflint. None of the assassin's bids topped one hundred gold. On the other hand, Jarlaxle himself came dangerously close to buying someone. He was saved by a hardened-looking elf woman who didn't appreciate his presence. After she left with her new slave Jarlaxle was amused at how much trouble he'd caused.

While they were here, Jarlaxle figured he may as well pick up information. By subtly chatting people up and listening in on others' conversations he learned much. Flygon and Oppus had been major suppliers of human and half-elven slaves. Many customers were concerned at how they were going to get hold of quality slaves after the deaths of the two slavers. The other major players in the Iron Ring were non-human. One of them was a yuan-ti, which was still the lowest of the low to humans even in Skullport.

Jarlaxle also learned another fact: drow slave auctions were constantly plagued by the followers of Elistraee. A certain drow House from a faraway city had a portal in Skullport. This House was in an out-and-out war with the followers of Elistraee. Most people in Skullport tried to stay out of their business.

That information reminded Jarlaxle that he had best return to Urldan soon with raw materials for Entreri's sword. And, he privately admitted, he was curious to see how the boy fared.

At last, a distant clock tower chimed noon. Jarlaxle and Entreri drifted over to auction block A as a new caravan rolled in, pulled by two rothe. Jarlaxle had noticed that rothe were not uncommon as work animals in Skullport.

A tall man with a hard face and large, callused hands climbed the side stairs to the platform. He announced himself with a magically amplified voice. "I am a representative of Kellis Lammel, the partner of the late Flygon Lammel. Flygon Lammel's stock is to be liquidated today, at this time. Bidding starts at fifty gold a head. Stock consists of half-elves and humans. No hard labor slaves. All stock consists of house slaves."

The crowd shifted around the auction block as he spoke, some people drawn in and others disappointed. Jarlaxle and Entreri stayed put.

"The stock is young and healthy," Kellis' uncle continued. Jarlaxle noted he was not much of a salesperson, but he would keep his nephew from being cheated.

The man gestured. "First lot, kitchen slaves. Starting bid for the whole lot is two hundred gold. Any takers for the whole lot?"

As Jarlaxle expected, there were none.

The man nodded and then parceled out slaves individually. The highest price was five hundred gold, and the lowest was only one hundred, for a young man of fourteen.

"Second lot, slaves who know how to clean and keep house," Kellis' uncle announced. There were fourteen slaves in this category, ranging from children to men and women in their thirties. Jarlaxle had to look away and ignore the whole proceeding in order to get through it. Nlaea wasn't here.

Entreri was insufferably bored.  He wondered if he could get away with buying Nlaea for only 200 gold so he could keep the other 800 for himself – not because he was greedy but rather because he found ennui particularly distasteful.  He watched without pity as the slaves were sold off.  He'd had to save himself as a child.  They would have to save themselves as well.

"Third and final lot, slaves of a decorative or bedroom nature," the man announced. His assistant brought out eight slaves, only two of which were female. One of those was Nlaea. She had the same fiery red hair as her twin sister. Jarlaxle wanted to compare them side by side, but they seemed very much alike.

The six men were auctioned off first. Jarlaxle wondered if any of them would have appealed to the Tauvaul sisters, although he had no desire to assist the women in such a fashion.

Entreri was careful not to alter his body language as Nlaea was brought forward.  Showing interest could be bad for his purse.  

Jarlaxle chose his moment. He stood fairly near three other potential buyers. He muttered under his breath at a pitch designed to carry, "Don't know what he's playing at, offering goods like that. Half-elf's obviously diseased. Damn humans."

The man directly in front of him gave a start and blanched. He muttered to the man next to him, who was apparently an associate. They walked out of the auction. Several people followed them on their way out, overhearing the mutter of the two men as they left.

A trio on Jarlaxle's left shifted uneasily but stayed.

Bidding sputtered out at one hundred gold. Now was Entreri's time to act.

Jarlaxle turned away and walked to the edge of the auction block's crowd, pretending to take interest in what auction block B had going on. He needed to distance himself from Entreri's comings and goings.

Noticing Jarlaxle's retreat, Entreri touched his ear.

"Two hundred gold," Kellis' uncle said, obviously relieved. "Two hundred gold. Do I hear two-ten?" He looked around, but no one budged. "Two hundred to the merchant in the hat." He motioned for Entreri to come forward, jerking Nlea forward at the same time.

Jarlaxle pretended to lose interest and quietly filtered his way through the crowd toward the slave auction's exit into the variety market. He hovered at the first stall, examining various necklaces.

Entreri walked over to the platform, handing over the gold and taking Nlaea by the upper arm.  He didn't hold her very tightly, but at least this way if she did try to make a break for it, he could stop her.

"Prize" in hand, he headed toward the exit.

Jarlaxle left the jewelry stall and followed five steps behind, careful to give most of the stalls a glance or two.  

Nlaea was very quiet until they reached the end of the market and headed upwards, through the narrow, slimy alleyways between flophouses. Then she whispered to Entreri, "That drow is following us. The one with the Skulker hat."

Entreri gave her a curious glance, surprised that she had noticed and that she'd dared to tell him.  "Do not be concerned.  He's with me."

Nlaea's concern vanished into astonishment. "Who . . . Who is he?"

"My business partner," Entreri said.  "His name is Jarlaxle."  He realized that in all this time, Jarlaxle had never divulged his surname.  It seemed odd.

Nlaea worked up her courage over the course of several minutes. Finally, she asked, "Does that mean he too was hired by Laudriel?"

Entreri was much amused at her deduction.  "And what makes you think I am hired by Laudriel?"

"I hope you are, because you know who she is," Nlaea said. Her confidence seemed to grow in direct proportion to how much distance was between her and the slave auction. "Laudriel and I communicated through other slaves. An underground network of messengers. We can do that. Flygon Lammel and Darrian Oppus were in business together and friends. It was normal to send messengers between their houses. We sent messages, too. The slaves, I mean. Laudriel contacted someone we'd used before. She told me she was free and someone was coming to rescue me. She could do that now, she said."

Entreri raised an eyebrow.  "You were bold to fish for the connection.  I could have outbid your rescuer.  But yes, I am he.  Laudriel made a deal with her new guildmistress, who then hired Jarlaxle and me."  Convinced she would not bolt now, Entreri released her arm.

Nlaea grinned at him. "I was bold, but you were holding me wrong. Most people wouldn't think that was suspicious, but I did. You've never owned a slave before."

Jarlaxle, delighted, burst out laughing behind them.

Entreri wasn't even aware there was a right way and wrong way to hold a slave.  "You're quite right.  I never have.  I've taken plenty of prisoners, but no slaves."

Nlaea nodded. "I'm glad there is such a person as someone who's never owned a slave before." Then she glanced at Jarlaxle. "He sounds jolly for a drow. Is he really a drow, or is it a disguise? Lots of people come down here from Waterdeep in disguise. People from Waterdeep do business here all the time. I heard from the underground network that the Masked Lords don't think people from Waterdeep do business here, but they do."

Jarlaxle caught up to them with a few quick strides and walked on Nlaea's other side. He grinned at her. "You must be the chatty one. I've never met twins before, but I have heard that there is always a quiet one and a chatty one."

Nlaea giggled.

Entreri doubted it was that straightforward, but it was true that she was more talkative.  "The drow is both jolly and chatty.  You should get along well for the short time you will know each other."

Nlaea's expression grew somber. "That's right. I'll never see you again, probably. I guess that makes me sad because it's natural to like someone who's rescued you, even if they've been hired."

They reached the stone steps up to the Ventor.

At the top of the stairs, Jarlaxle said, "Whether you see us again or not, I suppose, depends on you. I'm sure at some point you will be allowed to wander outside of the Dragon's Head Tavern, at which point you can always seek us out if that is your wish."

She looked at him with curiosity. "Oh. Does that mean you live here, then? Most people don't, especially if they're sellswords."

"And yet, most drow do live here," Jarlaxle said, smiling. "So I am both common and unique."

"Then you really are a drow."

"I'm afraid so."

They headed towards the Dragon's Head Tavern, shepherding her along between them. The streets were fairly deserted. Most people were at the market during this time of day.

"That's all right," Nlaea said. "I guess I like you anyway. Especially if you are jolly."

Jarlaxle chuckled. "Usually. Even a crisis doesn't dampen my spirits for long."

"He's damn near unshakeable," Entreri said.  He wondered if Laudriel would be staring out the window.

In due time they reached the tavern. Entreri didn't even have time to show his token. The door burst open and Laudriel stood on the step, breathless and flushed with excitement. "Let them in, Oga, Vada! She's my sister!"

The half-orc guards hastily shuffled out of the way.

Laudriel tackled her twin in a hug and dragged Nlaea inside. "Come in everybody!"

Jarlaxle and Entreri nudged past the half orc guards as well and entered the tavern, shutting the door behind them.

At the sight of the reunited twins, the crowd of guildswomen uttered a collective, "Awwww."

Entreri stayed at the door, trying to ward off the shower of estrogen.

Laudriel announced unnecessarily, "This is my twin, Nlaea!" She hugged on her sister again and rapidly began introducing her to various guild members.

Shael was there, and she welcomed the new twin with a smile and a forearm clasp.  Then she sauntered over to Entreri and Jarlaxle, leaning against the wall by Entreri.  "Any trouble?"  She crossed her arms.

"None," Entreri said.

Shael snorted.  "Because everything is a breeze for Artemis Entreri?"

Jarlaxle grinned. "That's one reason. Another is because Nlaea is a very clever girl."

"Oh?" Shael asked, clearly intrigued.

Jarlaxle nodded. "Indeed. She knew right away who Entreri was. Due to our strategy my identity was the only introduction necessary. Nlaea is quite observant. She knew from Entreri's bearing that he had never owned a slave before, and having been in secret communication with her sister, put two and two together."  He suggested, "She might make an excellent spy, should your guild have such positions open."

Shael's eyebrows raised.  "We'll test her out, then."  

Entreri's gaze had returned to the celebrating twins.  Actual family loyalty.  What a concept.

Shael leaned against his shoulder faintly.  "Think they're pretty, Master Entreri?"

Entreri glanced down at Shael.  Mischievous blue eyes told him she was definitely flirting.  "What are you suggesting?"

Shael just laughed.

Jarlaxle shook his head. "Laudriel and Nlaea are definitely attractive, but, speaking for myself, much too young."  He watched as an older guild member led Nlaea towards a hallway.

Laudriel ran up to them. "Maika is going to cut off Nlaea's restraints, and then she's going to be settled in my room!" She beamed at the three of them excitedly. "I haven't seen her in ten years and now she's sharing my room!" She bowed quickly. "Thank you, Mistress Shael. Please thank Mistress Eroan for me, too."

Shael thumped her on the shoulder.  "You're welcome.  Just get her adjusted.  We'll start training her tomorrow morning."

"Right!" Laudriel ran off to be with her sister.

"You do many good deeds here, Mistress Shael," Jarlaxle observed.

Shael snorted.  "Maybe.  I guess.  If we didn't turn a profit doing it, it wouldn't get done.  But it does make a difference to these women, so there's some extra satisfaction in the process."  She smiled up at Entreri again.

Entreri was not interested in licking boots, however.

"Should we pay our respects to Mistress Eroan before we go?" Jarlaxle asked.

"Certainly."  Shael led them upstairs.  By this point, the concubines were getting used to seeing them.

When they entered the office, Tauvaul was at her desk, which was covered in scrolls and documents.  "Well, good afternoon, gents."

Jarlaxle bowed low, sweeping off his hat. The effect was somewhat different in his current garb. "Good afternoon, Mistress Eroan. The mission was a success – as I am certain you have heard."

Tauvaul shook her head.  "The guards reported nothing.  I was waiting on Shael."

When Entreri considered they were six floors up, he realized she wouldn't have heard the commotion.  "Nlaea has been returned to her sister."

"And you got at least 200 gold?" Eroan asked.

"We did."  Entreri wasn't going to lie to her.  Some level of trust had to be built between them, and for all he knew, he was being scanned by a wizard in the room next door.

Jarlaxle smiled. "Rest assured that Entreri and I make an effective negotiating team."

Tauvaul chuckled.  "I bet that you do."  She leaned back in her chair.  "Well done, then.  We'll no doubt be in contact with you again with further jobs."

Exactly what Entreri wanted to hear.  "Excellent."

"Yes," Shael drawled, hovering close to his side.

Jarlaxle tipped his hat to them. "Indeed. We shall await word from you. Until then, ladies." He walked towards the door.

Shael saw them back downstairs, chatting Entreri up the whole way.

The assassin was grateful to escape into the street.  "So my options are orc teats or boot licking?"  He snorted.  "I think I'll choose celibacy."

Jarlaxle laughed.

xXx

On what they had earned so far from the Dragon's Head Guild, Jarlaxle and Entreri had enough coin to live off of for at least three months without working at all. Jarlaxle mentioned this fact in passing and was met with a glare. However, the idea of taking a few days off to deal with their own business and recuperate was well-received.

Two days after this conversation, Jarlaxle came back from his afternoon shopping with a brilliant grin and an extra bounce in his step. Without waiting for Entreri to ask, he announced, "I have at last managed to make a trade with the dwarven miners of the Undermountain." Jarlaxle rubbed his hands together. "Thanks to steadily building connections through The Pick and Lantern, we now have enough mithral to supply Urldan with material for your sword."

This immediately had Entreri's attention.  "Excellent." He couldn't quite figure out why Jarlaxle had decided to get him a new sword, though.

"Soon, your equipment will match the quality of mine," Jarlaxle said. He plopped down in a chair at the table across from Entreri. "Think of the jobs we will be able to take then! We will be able to command twice as much coin. If not more."

"So far, only one of our jobs has even required my sword," Entreri said.

"We cannot run before we walk," Jarlaxle said. He gestured vaguely. "Now, let's talk hilts. The design of a sword's hilt is very important."

Entreri found Jarlaxle's logic to be lacking, given the first job they got they landed due to his already-established reputation, but he focused on the implied question.  "Nothing with snakes or dragons.  Too cliché."  He considered it.  "I would prefer to have a D-guard."  Hand protection was important, after all.  "And a leather-wrapped grip."

Jarlaxle pulled out a scroll, bottle of ink, and a quill. He jotted Entreri's description down in flowing, easily legible cursive. "Gold? Silver? Any gemstones?"

"Silver."  Entreri had always preferred silver.  "I suppose a sapphire or ruby for decoration, but keep it minimal."

Jarlaxle nodded and wrote it down. "Silver, small accent sapphire or ruby." He glanced up from the scroll. "Any specific animal suggestions for a likeness, or would you prefer no animal references at all?"

"None," Entreri said.

Jarlaxle wrote that down and underlined it. "No animals."  The drow mercenary read over his notes. "Is there anything else that comes to mind?"

"Type," Entreri said.  "I would prefer to stick with a saber.  Also, we need to discuss what magic the blade will have."

Jarlaxle grinned. "I was hoping you would allow the blade to be enhanced." He jotted down the word 'saber.' "What kind of enchantments do you prefer? Most drow weapon smiths know at least twelve different enhancements."

"So much to choose from."  Entreri wasn't being sarcastic for once.  "I would prefer a sword with an enchantment to increase the damage.  Perhaps also poison.  Suggestions based on what he is likely to know?"

Jarlaxle started a heading for magic enhancements and started the list with damage magnifier and poison. Then he looked up at Entreri. "The two you've mentioned so far are common enough. Also, it's quite common to enchant one's weapon to come to one's hand if one is disarmed and give the weapon some kind of elemental damage. Fire, ice, lightning, that sort of thing. I suppose poison technically counts as an element, but one weapon can hold multiple elemental attacks. In addition to crafting a fine cutting edge, drow weapon smiths can enchant the blade to be sharper still and not to dull when cutting through things."

"Sounds excellent."  Entreri was up for all of that.  He considered what element other than poison might interest him, but nothing came to mind.  "Poison is fine as the element."

Jarlaxle nodded. He wrote down 'return to hand', 'cutting edge', and 'dull proof.' "Also, if you wish, you can key the sword to your blood, making the sword inert for anyone who is not related to you. This is popular with drow because it serves as a kind of revenge. One may die and one's possessions taken as the spoils of war, but their magical enhancements don't work for one's enemies."

Entreri had to grin at that.  "That thought does please me."

Jarlaxle grinned in return and made of a note of it. "I thought it might."  Secretly, the drow mercenary wished this to be an overture to a lasting friendship. Entreri interested him as a person, not merely as a warrior.

"Well, I think that covers everything Urldan will need to know." Jarlaxle stood, spoke a command word, and dried the ink instantly. He tucked everything back in his hat. "Shall we visit The Forge and claim our payment at last?"

"Yes, let’s."  Entreri stood as well, retrieving his cloak.  Rarely did he find that he looked forward to things, but he had to admit that the idea of getting such a specialized, personalized sword did appeal to him.

They traveled to northern Ventor. Though they'd only been there once before, both Jarlaxle and Entreri had a good memory for geography. It was easy to find The Ak'euch again. Jarlaxle noticed this neighborhood seemed quiet, almost strangely quiet. He opened the door to the shop and entered first. Right inside the doorway, they were greeted by the object of their mission, looking so different that Jarlaxle had to stop and marvel for a moment.

Urldan's son was now dressed in a clean white tunic with full sleeves and a long black vest belted at the waist, with black leggings and stylishly saggy black boots. His hair was combed and sported the complex braids of the drow class system.

The young half-drow bowed. "Welcome to The Ak'euch, known in Common as The Forge. I am Alak, son of Urldan. My father is with a client. I am an apprentice. Would you be interested in buying a dagger or a sword? They are plain but well-balanced." Then he straightened and grinned. "That is what I say to everyone when they enter." He glanced at the back door of the room. "Except that my father really is with a client."

Jarlaxle stood aside so that Entreri could enter. "I see. Would you be so good as to tell your father that we are here?"

Alak bowed. "Yes, Master Jarlaxle." He wove his way around the smithing equipment and knocked on the back door. Then he disappeared inside.

Jarlaxle glanced at his partner. "Well? A remarkable transformation, don't you think?"

"Indeed."  Entreri tried to ignore the needling pain in his sternum.  "He seemed plucky, though, so it's no great surprise."

Jarlaxle caught a hint of Entreri's pain and felt a sympathetic throb. He murmured, "If only every one of us was so lucky. For it is luck, isn't it?"

"Which part?" Entreri asked.  It wasn't luck that had saved the child but his father's love.  But what had granted Alak a loving father?  Luck?  Fate?  Destiny?

Jarlaxle looked away. "One's parents. One's family. I refuse to believe that some are fated to suffer, so it must be luck. Both good and bad."

Entreri glanced at Jarlaxle, surprised.  Had he been with a bad family?  If so, it might explain why he claimed no surname.  If so, then they might have something in common other than being mercenaries.  "Yes, luck I suppose.  The random drawing of a card, good or bad.  I don't believe in the theory that our souls choose our families prior to birth.  That is utter nonsense."

Jarlaxle nodded and looked at the assassin, relieved that Entreri hadn't rebuffed him. Perhaps a connection with the assassin would be possible. "For what soul would choose the suffering of parents that did not care, or worse? I agree that the notion is foolish."

"Indeed."  Entreri was somewhat curious about Jarlaxle now.  He doubted that the drow would ever share much about himself personally, however.  He seemed too cautious.  And rightfully so.  

The back door opened, and Alak emerged, followed by Urldan. The weapon smith smiled at the sight of them. "Welcome to my shop once again. Please, come back to my office."

Jarlaxle tipped his hat to Urldan. "Thank you. You should know that we have come to deliver raw materials for the sword that is to be made."

Urldan nodded. "I guessed as much. There are places to sit and refreshment should you choose it."

Entreri followed Jarlaxle into the office, where there was a small desk and a table with four chairs.  They sat at the table.  

Urldan stayed at the door an extra moment. "Dal'chev, will you mind the front of the shop for me?"

Alak nodded. "Yes, Vel'chev."

Urldan squeezed his son's shoulder. "Good." He shut the door and crossed over to the table. "Would either of you like a drink? I have water and wine."

"A small glass of wine, perhaps," Jarlaxle said. Accepting the gesture meant showing trust that he would not be poisoned by Urldan's drink.

"I have ssinjin'anon," Urldan offered.

Jarlaxle smiled. "Ah. Lovely."

Urldan nodded and retrieved a small glass of a nearly clear wine. A sweet, flowery aroma wafted from the glass.

"I'll try the wine as well."  Entreri had never had drow wine, so it seemed worth trying at least once.

Urldan and Jarlaxle both lit up.

The weapon smith retrieved a small, champagne-like glass for the assassin as well, filled a third of the way with the nearly clear, fragrant wine. "Here. This is ssinjin'anon, or sweet flower wine. In parts of the Upperdark tiny white flowers grow. We harvest the nectar of these flowers in my home city and turn the nectar into wine. The faerie elves are not the only elves to craft beautiful wines."

"Thank you."  Entreri took the glass and had a sip.  It was a pleasant flavor – not too sweet or overpowering.  He nodded to Urldan, indicating it was good.

Jarlaxle grinned and sipped his as well. "Excellent, Urldan."

The weapon smith poured himself a small glass and finally settled at the table. "The raw materials you mentioned. Let us discuss the sword first."

Jarlaxle nodded and pulled the scroll out of his hat. "I have compiled a description of what my partner wishes."

Urldan unrolled the scroll and looked it over in amusement. "You are reaping the reward to the fullest extent, aren't you?"

"As you expect from me," Jarlaxle said, grinning.

"This sword would cost 2,000 gold to make, never mind its resulting market value," Urldan said.

Jarlaxle chuckled. "Indeed. Since I am providing the materials myself from start to finish, I estimate that the fee would be between 1,200 and 1,500 gold."

Urldan nodded. "It would indeed. Of which you only pay ten percent."

Jarlaxle gestured expansively. "It is a good deal for both of us."

"It is," Urldan agreed. "It is good to have my son again. I am a happy father."

"I admit it would have been cheaper to allow you to collect the materials, but then I would be waiting years," Jarlaxle said.

"No doubt," Urldan said. "Dwarves are notoriously reluctant to part with their mithril."

Entreri filed that information away for future consideration.  Apparently Jarlaxle's talents were considerable.

Jarlaxle produced slim, silvery bars of mithril from his hat. "Believe it or not they were more willing to part with the refined mithril. Apparently if one analyzes the raw ore one can tell where the deposit is. By selling me the refined product they run no risk of their vein being discovered by others."

Urldan looked at the mithril with amazement. "May I?"

Jarlaxle nodded. "Please."

Urldan picked one up carefully, hefting it, examining the quality and the maker's mark. "Incredible."

Jarlaxle leaned back in his chair, looking pleased.

Entreri sipped his wine, content to let the drow talk.  At least Urldan didn't seem condescending towards humans like some of the other drow Entreri had met during the last few months.

Urldan set down the bar of mithril carefully and spoke to Entreri. "This sword may very well make my career. If word gets out that I have made something of this quality, commissions will likely increase for the more expensive weapons. You and your partner are still new to Skullport. Is there not a way I can trade information for advertising? I know much about the community."

Jarlaxle sipped his wine with a smile. "An interesting notion. What do you say?"

Entreri might not be silver-tongued, but he did understand networking.  At had been one of the few useful skills he'd learned from Theebles.  "Sounds reasonable."

Urldan grinned. "Excellent. Others will no doubt wonder where the sword has come from. In exchange for an ongoing connection to the community, would you be willing to name me and my shop?"

Entreri glanced at Jarlaxle, who was just smiling.  Then he looked back to Urldan.  "Certainly."

"Your sword will take a tenday to forge, and another tenday to enchant," Urldan said. "When you come to pick up the sword we shall discuss this further." He looked to Jarlaxle. "I must admit there is another reason for inviting you in and serving you my best wine."

"Oh?" Jarlaxle raised an eyebrow.

"Your retrieval of my son caught the attention of several of my associates," Urldan said. "Many slaves sold by the House of Tanor'Thal are male, and many worship the Masked Lord. If they are not spirited away by the nearby enclave of Elistraee's followers, they are bought by illithids, humans, and other drow. So far my associates lack the strength of numbers to pull off raids such as those led by the followers of Elistraee."

"You want us to rescue them as well," Entreri reasoned.  How had he ended up in the rescue business?

"I have only volunteered to approach you on their behalf," Urldan said.

"What if we say yes?" Jarlaxle asked.

"Then you would set up a meeting with a more direct representative through me," Urldan said. "I am one of the Masked Lord's many common people, quietly living a life integrated in one of Skullport's communities."

"In other words, you are at the bottom of the hierarchy of power," Jarlaxle said.

Urldan nodded. "You would need to speak to someone with more authority."

Entreri was beginning to feel his life really had taken a bizarre turn.  

"But you have the ability to act as a go-between," Jarlaxle said.

"Yes."

Jarlaxle glanced at Entreri. "Do we have time to think about this?"

"You have as much time as you need," Urldan said. "Things can't get worse."

"We'll talk it over," Entreri said to both of them at once.

Jarlaxle nodded. "Thank you for this most excellent wine. I shall leave the raw materials with you now." He emptied his hat, bringing forth more bars of mithril, two bags of silver, a small bag of rubies and sapphires each, and some fine leather. Then he stood. "Until we make up our minds."

Urldan rose and bowed. "Take your time. My masters are in no hurry."

"I doubt it shall take us too long to make up our minds," Jarlaxle said lightly. "A few days should be time enough."

Entreri nodded to the drow, then headed out of the shop.  Once they were far enough away, he gave Jarlaxle a skeptical look.  "How did we land in the business of saving slaves?"

"It's lucrative," Jarlaxle said. He gestured, smiling. "People are willing to part with vast sums of gold in exchange for the return of a person important to them." Then he gave Entreri a sly look. "You hesitate because you feel it is dangerous to dabble in matters of morality." He laughed. "Rest assured, morality has nothing to do with it for me. We fill a niche: reverse slavery. For some reason, no one has thought to make a business out of rescuing slaves, even though capturing those to be slaves is a million gold industry."

Admittedly, Entreri was somewhat reassured by this proclamation.  In his experience, the louder one claimed to be virtuous, the more corrupt one really was.

Jarlaxle held up one finger.  "There is nothing particularly virtuous about our clients. Mistress Eroan and Mistress Shael are themselves slavers, in addition to being twisted in general. Urldan's attitude towards his son is refreshing, but we have no way of knowing what he's done in the past or will do in the future as it regards the enemies of the Masked Lord. Certainly Vhaeraun is judged to be an evil god in the eyes of most of the world."  Jarlaxle held his palms up, weighing invisible things. "It is almost impossible not to find some good in most people, but it is equally impossible not to find some evil." He lowered his hands. "Also, being sellswords, I don't think it's any of our business."

Entreri wished someone would say something similar to Drizzt, who seemed hell-bent on morally judging the entire world.  "There is truth in your argument."  It would be lucrative.  He wasn't sure how interesting it would be for him, though.  He was a warrior first and foremost.  "If it's too boring, however, I don't care how much it pays."

Jarlaxle nodded. "I agree. One must have excitement to keep work fresh. This is actually an argument for accepting the assignment, in my opinion. You see, it is very likely that we shall have to fight the followers of Elistraee. Judging from what I've heard, every time there is an auction run by House Tanor'Thal, it is raided by Elistraee's followers in one way or another. Sometimes they pay for the slaves and other times they simply slay all the representatives of Tanor'Thal running the auction. Some say they will even go so far as to infiltrate House Tanor'Thal's base and steal slaves away before the auction."  Jarlaxle pointed up. High above the richest part of Skullport hung a large stalactite lit up with purple faerie fire. "I doubt, personally, that anyone unauthorized can get in there."

"Is that their base, then?" Entreri asked.

"In Skullport, yes," Jarlaxle said. "Apparently the compound above us contains a portal leading back to Karsoluthiyl, the city where the majority of House Tanor'Thal lives. A small portion of their House – lower ranking females and the like – run the compound over our heads."

 Entreri nodded.  "Well, we won't lose anything to meet with Urldan's masters."

"True," Jarlaxle said. "As long as we make it clear that we are in no way making up our minds other than to hear them out, they will let us walk away if we decide not to take the job."  He tapped his lower lip. "I hear that Karsoluthiyl is located near Baldur's Gate, underneath the mouth of the River Chionthar. One wonders why they choose to export everything north to Skullport."

Entreri shrugged.

Jarlaxle grinned. "I'll stretch out our response time for the full three days and then get back to Urldan. I would hate to seem overeager."

"Yes."  Entreri knew the wisdom of that.

And so it was that more reverse-slavery operations fell right into their laps.