Once Around the Realms (single books) Read online

  Once Around the Realms

  ( Single books )

  Brian Thomsen

  Brian Thomsen

  Once Around the Realms

  Chapter 1

  At the gates of Suzail or How Volo and Passepout First Meet

  "Great! A group of holy men is just what we need to liven up our day," said the guard known as Kirk, his teeth clenched in obvious perturbation.

  "Just calm down," said Duke, his partner-in-arms for nigh unto forty years. "They're on some sort of pilgrimage, and Azoun has offered them the best of Cormyr's hospitality as they mosey on through his territory, and that includes the safety and security of Suzail's city walls as they pass a night's respite under the protective watch of his Purple Dragons. After all, there are thieves about, and…" lowering his voice in mid-drawl, "… who knows what else, given our orders for extra security."

  "Bah! You're making a mountain out of a molehill. It's only one more thing for them to get on our backs about. Vangerdahast is probably just having a party or something."

  "I wouldn't call a special meeting of the College of War Wizards a party. Sounds like serious business to me. Why else would he have ordered the city closed to all non-registered magic users? I'll bet it has something to do with some unseen menace that is lurking on the horizon, like that Horde invasion. Boy, we really kicked some butt back then."

  "Don't get my hopes up," Kirk replied, drawing his chin betwixt his thumb and index finger till the two met at the distinctive cleftlike indentation that separated the right side of his jaw from the left. He nostalgically recalled the good old days. "Those were the times, weren't they? Fighting the barbarian menace. Overwhelming odds before us. Now all we're good for is night watch at the gate, and occasionally playing concierge to traveling holy men."

  Duke looked down at his depressed buddy. Though separated by twelve inches in height and three years in age, the two veterans were cut from the same cloth, and were mirror images of what you would expect a great warrior to look like as he entered his golden years. They had fought side by side for years, saved each other's lives on numerous occasions, and together had more than their fair share of adventuring, carousing, and festing.

  When Kirk had been assigned to permanent watch duty at the city gate, out of deference to his advancing years, Duke voluntarily put in for a transfer to this most boring of assignments just to keep his little buddy company. He never revealed to his friend that he, unlike Kirk, had chosen to join him on this assignment that was labeled by the young-bloods as the geriatric guard.

  "Cheer up," Duke encouraged, punching Kirk in the shoulder plate. "I understand that there has been some trouble of late with battling brigands, and pickpockets masquerading as thespians. Maybe we'll get lucky and bag a few."

  "Yeah," agreed Kirk, gaze now fixed on some invisible point on the horizon, then adding, "that's all we're good for, baby-sitting holy men and pinching pickpockets. Not what I'd call soldier's work. Purple Dragons, bah! Purple newts is more like it. Why don't we just retire?"

  "Quit feeling sorry for yourself. Looks like we have company. Go give him the once-over."

  Kirk took up his poleax, straightened his age-bent, five-two frame, and approached the oncoming traveler.

  "Stop in the name of King Azoun," he bellowed, happy that at least his bass was in good form. "Who goes there?"

  The lone traveler approached the gate, seemingly unthreatened by the harsh tones of the veteran of the watch.

  "It is only I, Passepout the entertainer, star of stage, tavern, and festhall, and only son of the legendary thespians Catinflas and Idle. I've come to Suzail to share my talents with your most appreciative citizenry, and rumor has it that their generosity is legendary, if you know what I mean," rambled the traveler, jabbing Kirk in the ribs with his elbow with all of the self-assurance of Elminster at a magic show. The traveler's manner more than obscured his humble ensemble of threadbare pantaloons, homespun blouse thin and shiny to the point of silken, and a moth-eaten cloak that had as many worn spots as it had pockets (of which it had many).

  "Passepout the entertainer," repeated Kirk. With a sneer, he added, "Never heard of him."

  "I'm not surprised," responded the peripatetic Passepout. "A dedicated soldier such as yourself has too little time for the frivolity of theatrics and amusement. You are much too busy with the security and safety of all Faerun, and for that, I might say, we are all truly grateful. Now, if you'll just let me be on my way into the city, I'll be sure to mention to His Royal Highness, King Azoun, what a splendid job you are doing."

  Kirk lowered the blade of his poleax to block Passepout's way, and turned his head, calling, "Hey, Duke. Do you know of anyone we're supposed to be on the watch for who has an appointment with King Azoun?"

  "Nope," replied Duke. "Not to my recollection."

  Passepout interjected, "I didn't say that I had an appointment with King Azoun. I just naturally assumed that he would want to see me once he heard about my theatrical exploits, and, of course…"

  "Nor mine," said Kirk, ignoring the pudgy traveler's explanation while still blocking Passepout's way as he continued his discourse with Duke. "Ever hear of an entertainer named Push-up…?"

  "That's Passepout," Passepout corrected.

  "… the son of Addled and Cant-floss…"

  "That's Idle and Catinflas, the legendary thespians," insisted the son of Idle and Catinflas, beginning to think that he might better have chosen the south gate entrance to the city.

  "… the legendary thespians. Ring any bells?" Kirk completed.

  "Nope," said Duke, approaching his comrade-in-arms. "Can't say it does."

  "Sorry," said Kirk, handing his poleax to Duke. He turned back to the scapegoat of all of his geriatric frustrations. "We've never heard of any Passepout the entertainer, but you know what?"

  "What?" whispered the now-meek traveler named Passepout, who was afraid that he would be spending the night in the dungeon for vagrancy, or some such other charge of which he was guilty.

  "Duke here reminded me that rumor has it there are some pickpockets in the neighborhood who are trying to pass themselves off as entertainers…"

  "Well, good sir," said Passepout, trying to regain some control, "if I should see any I will be sure to let you know, civic duty and all, and if you'll kindly allow me to be on my way, I'll…"

  Closing in on the newcomer to the gate of Suzail, gently forcing him backward until his back was against the city wall with no place else to go, the cold surface of the stone chilling Passepout to the bone through his threadbare clothes, Kirk continued, saying, "Funny. Seems I do recall a pair of pickpockets named Idle and Catinflas from somewhere around Baldur's Gate. You any relation to them, punk?"

  "You must be mistaken," insisted Passepout, not really answering the question, now sure that his night in the dungeon would be preceded by a beating, and dreading every minute of it. "I'm just a lowly street performer, and…"

  "Do you know what we do to suspected pickpockets in Suzail?" asked Kirk, balling his gauntlet-clad hand into the fist that he held dangerously close to the traveler's pudgy nose. "Do you know what we do?" he repeated. Duke stayed two paces behind, holding his poleax in his crossed arms, ready and waiting for the amusement that was sure to follow.

  "Oh, good! A quaint local custom. Let me take notes," a new voice added to the city gate milieu.

  Kirk turned from the cowering Passepout toward the source of the voice and confronted the latest traveler to attempt entrance at the gate.

  "And who are you?" Kirk bellowed, disappointed that his fist's appointment with the pudgy little entertainer's face had been interrupted by this latest interloper.

>   "I am Volothamp Geddarm, but you can call me Volo," said the new arrival, a strange yet jaunty fellow dressed in exotic yet pragmatic finery, capped off by a well-traveled beret. He shrugged, adding, "Everybody does, after all."

  Duke joined Kirk at the side of the new traveler, both still blocking any means of escape for the cowering Passepout, who still had his back to the cold city wall. He was thankful for the respite but dreaded the imminent resumption of his interrogation.

  Duke scratched his head. "Seems I remember hearing something about you," he said. After a moment, he snapped his fingers and smiled, saying, "Sure, I know you. You're that book fellow, the guy with the guides, citizen of the world, home on the range, and all of that sort of stuff."

  "Yes, I am Volo, traveler extraordinaire, and master gazetteer."

  "Well, let me shake your hand," said Duke. He enthusiastically pumped Volo's extended hand and then turned to Kirk, saying, "This guy is the author of that book on Waterdeep, the one I used to find us that really good festhall last time we were on leave. You remember, that really expensive place where our old girlfriends worked."

  "Yeah, I remember. Best leave I ever had, but you know I still can't figure it out," replied Kirk. "I thought that Katelyn had settled down with some rich merchant or something. She wasn't really the festhall type."

  "Oh, you must be referring to the Hanging Lantern," Volo explained, ready to bring up that it had been run by a gang of doppelgangers. Then he thought better of it, simply saying, "Glad I could be of service."

  "Darn tootin' you were of service. Best time I ever spent, outside of actual combat, that is," said Duke.

  Just then the two guards and the two recent arrivals to Suzail heard a commotion, as if a mob were approaching the gate.

  "That must be the holy men. I'd better go meet them and set things in order for their arrival," Duke said, heading toward the crowd. He turned back for just a moment to say, "It was a real pleasure meeting you, Mister Volo. Enjoy our fair city."

  "Thank you, good sir. I'll be sure to add that the guards on watch are always courteous in my upcoming Volo's Guide to Cormyr."

  Kirk was in the process of turning back to resume his engagement with Passepout when Volo tapped him on the shoulder, asking, "So then I'm free to enter the city?"

  "No skin off my nose," Kirk replied sarcastically.

  "Then, I assume there is no problem with my bond servant accompanying me."

  "Who?"

  "My bond servant," Volo replied.

  "I don't care what you do," Kirk responded curtly.

  "Very well," said Volo, who motioned to Passepout, saying, "Come along, then."

  "Wait a minute," Kirk interrupted. "He's your bond servant?"

  "That's right."

  "Well, he says he's an entertainer. Passepout the great and wonderful or some such, or so he claims. I think he's Passepout the pickpocket."

  "No, he's just Passepout the bond servant. Come along, Passepout," Volo ordered. "I have much research to do, and none of it's getting done here."

  "Yes, Master," said Passepout in what he hoped was a deferential enough tone.

  "Now wait a second," ordered Kirk. "I don't care what research you have to do. If this here is Passepout the bond servant, then why did he claim to be Passepout the entertainer, son of Idle and Cant-floss?"

  "That's Catinflas," corrected Passepout, wishing he hadn't after he had.

  "Vanity, I guess," answered Volo. "After all, how would you feel if your parents were famous thespians and the best that you've managed to make of your life is as a lowly bond servant?"

  "The reason doesn't matter the fact is, he lied. And if I recall the Cormyr Civil Code, telling an intentional untruth to a guard on watch is an actionable offense."

  "Well, I am very sorry," said Volo in his most conciliatory tone. "What is the fine? Will a gold piece do?" he asked, holding up a particularly shiny coin.

  "Sure," said Kirk, knowing that it was against the Civil Code for him to accept such official fines outside a courtroom. He reached for the coin, only to have Volo snatch it away.

  Volo propositioned. "How about this? You don't want to waste time in some courtroom turning in this fine, and I obviously don't really want to pay it. After all, a gold piece is a gold piece, and more than twice the value of a well-trained bond servant, let alone this one. How about I'll flip you for it, double or nothing? That way you have a chance to get another gold piece for your troubles, and I have a chance to be on my way. What do you say?"

  Just then Duke called from the other side of the gate. "Hey, Kirk! I need a hand!"

  Kirk called to his old friend, "Be right there," then turned to Volo, and said, "Okay, but be quick about it."

  Volo agreed, and quickly tossed the coin in the air, calling, "Dragons, I win."

  "Then, kings I win," said Kirk.

  It came up dragons.

  Kirk cursed and joined his comrade-in-arms at the gate dealing with the oncoming holy men, one of whom seemed to be quite obstreperous.

  Volo and Passepout could still overhear the taller guard doing his duty, drawling, "Now see here, pilgrim, hold on and wait your turn, or you'll…" as they entered the city proper.

  Chapter 2

  On the promenade or Passepout pledges himself as Volo's Bond Servant

  The Promenade was filled with the hustle and bustle of Suzail's citizenry returning home after a hard day of work, or venturing out in preparation for a long night's fun. Purple Dragons policed the streets as obvious omens of order, perhaps to impress the dignitaries that may or may not have converged on the city for the meeting of the College of War Wizards. Amidst all the melee of activity, the two travelers put greater distance between themselves and the gate.

  "How can I thank you enough, O great and wonderful master?" implored the greatly relieved Passepout. "I was sure that I would be spending the next few days repairing my bruised and battered body in some cold, dark dungeon."

  "Think nothing of it, good sir," insisted Volo. "I have lived the life of a vagabond for many years and have experienced more than my fair share of overzealous sentries and the like. I haven't always been of the stature to weekend at the beautiful estates of the Bernd family."

  "You've stayed at Yonda?"

  "You've heard of it?"

  "Who hasn't heard of the most opulent family estate in all Cormyr?"

  "I've just passed a few days there. Have you had the chance to visit?"

  "Even famous thespians such as myself must wait for an invitation, and from what I understand they are few and far between."

  "I'm sure your time will come. Bernd has an eye for talent and is a renowned patron of the arts. I'll see about putting the two of you together."

  "Again I am in your debt."

  "We men of the road must stick together. Now where is your great performance scheduled? As I will only be in town for a few days, I hope I will be able to catch it."

  "Well, you see, O great and wonderful savior of the only son of Catinflas and Idle, my exact, uh… arrangements have yet to be solidified, and I had hopes of working out some sort of arrangement in town until several possible, uh… opportunities become more solidified."

  "I see," said Volo, with just enough insight to make the down-on-his-luck thespian a bit uneasy.

  "It's not like that," Passepout insisted. "I'm many things but not a thief, as those graying Purple Dragons at the gate accused. Times are hard, and an actor's life is not always an easy one. Even an accomplished thespian such as myself is entitled to a few dry spells. I had always heard that Suzail was ripe for dramatic harvesting, and if not here, well, then somewhere else."

  "But more to the matter at hand," interrupted Volo, "what about tonight?"

  "Tonight?"

  "Yes, tonight. According to the post at the gate, a curfew is in effect. What will you do for tonight? There are several establishments I can recommend, if you would tell me your price range."

  "Well, you know how an actor's life is. Th
e journey here, roadside prices, and my appetite and all,"' offered Passepout, patting his ample belly, "have left me slightly deficient of means, if you know what I mean."

  "You're broke."

  "Exactly."

  "Suzail is no place to be a penniless itinerant. There are laws against it and more than a few civil bodies ready to enforce them. As I saved you from the Purple Dragons' jaws at the gate, I feel I am obligated to continue in my role as your protector, at least for the time being."

  Volo tossed the indigent entertainer one of his bags, the heaviest one, almost bowling over the unsuspecting fellow, who seemed to have lost a bit of his legendary acrobatic prowess through the acquisition of a few extra pounds of fleshly body cushioning. Passepout recovered, with a questioning look, but before he could voice his interrogative Volo cut him off.

  "At the gate I identified you as my bond servant, and for the duration of my stay here in Suzail so shall you be. This will, of course, entitle you to share in my room and board, of course."

  "Oh, thank you, O wonderful and good sir. I am in your debt," insisted the grateful, relieved Passepout.

  "Think nothing of it. My accommodations are all comped."

  "Comped?"

  "Complimentary. Such is the advantage of being a world-famous author-and the most famous traveler in all of the Realms, if I do say so myself. My favors to you have cost me naught, and for them I now have an extra set of shoulders to carry my packs, and an eager ear to bend during my stay. For, you see, even more than traveling, I enjoy the sound of my own voice, and people sometimes look askance at you if you are talking to yourself, if you know what I mean. Think nothing of it."

  "Your bond servant so shall I be for as long as you require. I owe you my freedom, and my board, and until such time as the debt is repaid, so shall it be."

  "Only if you insist."

  "And I do. Besides, maybe the accommodations won't cost you anything, but that doesn't change the fact that you were willing to risk two gold pieces in exchange for my release."