Bard Tales: The Bard, The Dwarf, and the Assassin

The Bard, The Dwarf, and the Assassin

Prelude

Mithril 21, 1362, Year of the Helm

On a day where the bright sun floated high in the clear sky, the sound of music and joy could be heard in the town square of Shadowdale. Many children were laughing merrily as they ran around, pretending to be famous heroes such as Elminster, or the Knights of Myth Drannor. They faced down vicious Zhentarim soldiers, and rescued beautiful damsels. While their children played, parents were gathered in many small groups, discussing the many rumors and issues of the Dalelands, ranging from the secret battles, or the whereabouts of Tethyr's crown prince.

Observing the festival on a small grassy hill was a stout, curly brown haired halfling, and his beefy, blond haired and blond bearded dwarf friend, dressed in their matching sets of white silk shirts and leather breeches.

"I must say Bowie, the town picked the right day for putting on the Springtide Festival," commented the dwarf in his gruff voice as he stroked his thick beard.

Bowie Butterball, who was leaning on his short sword Vithril, studied the many citizens who were partaking in the song and dance. "Yes it's quite fascinating Rouric," the halfling replied in his evangelical voice, "Though I haven't seen Storm anywhere."

Rouric Balderk shrugged his shoulders, then retrieved his axe from the ground next to his feet. "Probably fighting Manshoon, or something. You know Bowie, after becoming a Harper, I thought we would be given some sort of dangerous, suicidal Harper mission. And don't give me that 'these things take time' rubbish. I know you are as restless as I am."

The halfling sighed as he placed his blue hilted short sword back in its sheath. He then reached into his bag of holding and pulled out his small silver harp. "I know Rouric, my sword and harp are anxious to go and seek some danger. Perhaps even kill a Manshoon clone or two."

Rouric shook his head. Remembering his friend's history, he wondered whether Bowie was making an attempt at a joke, or being serious. He decided to keep his thoughts to himself, and turned his blue eyes to the left, where he saw a familiar beautiful woman walking towards him.

Storm Silverhand, the famed Bard of Shadowdale, smiled when she approached the two Harpers who had once been her students. "Had I known you both were just going to sit back and not participate in the celebration, I would have brought you two along with me."

"And just what were you at?" Rouric asked in a curious voice.

Storm winked at the dwarf. "I was fighting Manshoon clones. But thankfully I came back in time for the festival. Could I persuade you two strong gentlemen to escort me down to the town square?"

"What do you think Bowie?" asked the dwarf, nudging his friend's shoulder. "Should we accept this dangerous mission and escort this woman to the festival?"

Bowie leaned into his friend and replied," If the Lady Bard of Shadowdale needs an escort, it must be dangerous down there. Still, there are a number of individuals who would love to be in our position Rouric."

"A number of individuals would have loved to have been in your position when you gave me that broken jaw yesterday during training Bowie," Storm remarked as she gently hit the halfling in the shoulder, then brushed back her long silver hair. Her ears picked up the sound of footsteps approaching, to which she acknowledged by drawing her long sword.

Bowie and Rouric drew their respective weapons as Storm Silverhand turned to meet the newcomer. He was a handsome man, who stood a little over six feet in height. His dark brown hair went past his ears while his dark green eyes stared intently at Storm. From head to toe he was covered in bright green silks, encrusted with jades and aquamarines. In his hands, he held a finely crafted green handled battle axe.

"It seems the stories were true when they said that Storm Silverhand had keen instincts," the man said in a soft voice. "I wonder if it's true what they say about her battle prowess"

Storm held her weapon at her side, but kept her eyes on the gentleman who advanced towards her, "Just out of curiosity my friend, what are doing here? Are you a Zhent sent here by Manshoon, or an assassin sent by Thay?"

The man in green smirked as he looked over at the female bard. "I am a merely a traveler who seeks to test his limits against the great warriors of the Dalelands. I have traveled a long way to face you Lady Silverhand. You do not have to accept my challenge, but then you not accepting my challenge just shows me that the Bard of Shadowdale isn't all that the songs and tales make her out to be."

The female bard looked at her weapon, then at the man who had just challenged her. She was about to respond to his request to fight her, when Bowie and Rouric stepped in front of her their weapons aimed at the man's chest.

"Storm, let us fight this windbag," Rouric said with a growl.

Next to him, Bowie stared at the man in green. "If he is afraid to pit himself against the students of Storm Silverhand, then he has no right to challenge Storm herself."

Listening to these words, the man swung his axe at the air three times, and then looked at the dwarf and halfling. "It seems your students are willing to lay their lives down for you Storm. Very well gentlemen, I will fight you both. However, if I survive this combat, you both must promise me that you two will seek out the land where I am from, and face a challenge similar to this one."

The two Harpers exchanged confused looks. "Where exactly is the land you speak of?" asked the halfling.

"No answers until after our fight-or rather you will have your answers when I walk away with my head intact. Now do you both swear that you will seek out my homeland?"

Both Bowie and Rouric nodded, then stepped forward and attacked. Bowie made a low slash with Vithril across the man's stomach while Rouric swung his axe hard, aiming for the man's neck.

Storm Silverhand stood back, anticipating the man in green to easily block the attacks. An expression of shock crossed her face when Bowie's sword made a deep gash in the man's stomach. She was even more stunned when Rouric's axe cut cleanly through the man's neck, separating his head from his shoulders.

When the man's headless body dropped to the ground, both Harpers looked at their stained weapons. They looked back at the man's corpse, seeing the thin stream of blood that flowed from his stomach, and the splashes of blood that squirted from where the man's head had once been.

"Well that wasn't much of a challenge," Rouric muttered as he patted Bowie on the back. Bowie nodded, but then his eyes widened in disbelief when he saw the headless corpse begin to move.

"Good attack gentlemen," commented the man in green's dismembered head just as his body ascended to its feet. "But remember your promise to seek out my land. It lies in the East near the Moonsea. Look for a place called the Black Chapel, but do not be too hasty in getting there. Wait for a year or two to get there if you have to, but do not put it off for too long."

Bowie, Rouric, and Storm stood in silence as the man's body reached down picked up the head, which continued to squirt blood from its stump. The man turned to the three Harpers and gave a polite bow. Whistling a soft tune, he turned and walked away.

"What just happened?" Rouric whispered as he watched the man in green walk into the distance.

The halfling turned to his friend and said," I think we just accepted a challenge from a god or some divine being. And no matter what Rouric, we have to see it through. Even if it takes us ten years, and even if it means the end of us."

Chapter 1

Marpenoth 21 1369, Year of the Gauntlet

Wait a year or two to get there if you have to, but do not put it off for too long.

The words of the man in green had echoed in the back of the minds of both Bowie Butterball and Rouric Balderk for the last seven years. It was only this morning that they had decided to finally take it upon themselves to journey to the man's homeland, and find the Black Chapel and the challenge that was waiting for him.

On this unusual hot day, Bowie and Rouric were traveling through the forest of Cormanthor. Despite the shade provided by the tree's thin treetops, comprised of mainly red, orange, and yellow leaves, the two Harpers were covered in sweat that poured from their hot armor covered bodies.

Brushing the sweat from his forehead, Rouric looked at his friend. "Bowie, please tell me that we'll be coming to a town soon. It pains me to say this, but I need a bath, and so do you."

Ignoring the terrible smells that came from his, and Rouric's saturated bodies, Bowie shook his head, cursing himself for not cooling his elven chain armor, (which he wore under his leather jerkin) before he and Rouric had left Shadowdale. It was then an idea came to him. "Rouric let us rest for a moment so that I can conjure up a wind to cool us off."

"Finally the best decision I've heard all day, but don't sing too loud or some elves might attack us," the dwarf replied with a chuckle.

The two Harpers set down their weapons and packs on the forest ground. Bowie smiled and closed his eyes, channeling his bardic energy. Then he began singing;

Freezing winds from the north that turn warriors to ice,

from the highest snow laced peaks I call for our aid.

To cool our spirits and our heated rumps,

so that we can continue the journey we have made.

Just as the bard had finished, a cool, but fierce breeze blew past him and his dwarven comrade. The wind had somewhat cooled their bodies, and also caused Rouric's beard to wave in the wind, like a dress on a close hanger.

Once the bard's spell finished its duration, Rouric shook his head. "That spell helped a little, but…"

"But what?" Bowie asked as sweat beads once again formed at his forehead.

The dwarf shrugged. "I'm still warm. Now if we were in the Great Glacier, or the High Ice-." Rouric ceased talking and let out a shout when he felt a piercing chill go through his limbs.

A ghostly laughed filled the air. Bowie chuckled while Rouric shivered and cursed in his dwarven tongue.

"Sylune…"the dwarf said with a stutter that was caused by the chattering of his teeth," that…that wasn't funny."

You said you wanted to be cooler echoed the voice of Sylune Silverhand.

"Yes...bu…but I didn't mean th...that I wanted…to free…freeze to death."

"We can have a nice bath when we get to Voohlar," Bowie said as he reached into his bag and pulled down his dark blue cloak. With a smile, he handed it to Rouric, who quickly wrapped it around his bulky frame.

Voohlar. Isn't that a town controlled by the Zhentarim? Sylune asked her godson.

The halfling smiled at Sylune, or rather the direction in the air he thought she was hovering in. "What town in the Moonsea isn't controlled by Zhents? If we can keep ourselves from attracting any unwanted attention, we should have no trouble traveling. All I really plan for us to do is spend the night there, and ask about the Black Chapel. Yes Rouric, we will eat and bathe when we get to town."

Rouric nodded as his body began to warm up. "Bowie, I've been wondering about that chapel, and that man in green we fought. Do you think he was…is a Zhent, or somehow affiliated with them?"

"He might Rouric," the bard answered, crossing his arms.

And what if he is? asked Sylune as her ghostly form materialized in front of Bowie.

A wicked expression crossed the halfling's face. "Then I guess we cut his head off until he is dead."

Sylune's face twisted in a look of discomfort. You two just remember to be careful and take of yourselves.

"We'll be fine Sylune," the dwarf replied with a smile. "Bowie and I are Harpers after all."

That's what worries me.

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It was a slow night in Voohlar's largest inn, the Glowing Helm. The inn's vast, candle-lit lobby was filled with several round wooden tables, many of which were topped with layers of dust and bread crumbs. Only six patrons were drinking in the lobby, each at his or her own table. One of the patrons, a gentleman with short, raven black hair, sat alone in the corner, his mug half-filled with the inn's finest ale. Dressed entirely in black, he studied the other patrons with his cold, gray eyes, while at the same time, his left hand on his emerald embedded dagger while his right hand stroked the unshaven stuble on his chin.

"Can I get you anything else sir?" asked the short, red haired tavern maiden as she approached his table. A soft gasp escaped her lips when she noticed the gray pigment in the man's skin color.

Artemis Entreri turned his cold gaze to the woman who had just addressed him. "No thank you. Now please leave me alone."

The tavern maiden but her lip and quickly walked away. Entreri watched the woman bump into a table on her way back to the counter. His former drow companion Jarlaxle would have reprimanded him for casting such intimidating looks towards innocent tavern workers. But he and Jarlaxle had parted away in what seemed like a lifetime ago. Once again in his life, Artemis Entreri was on his own.

The assassin continued to watch the patrons. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed two new occupants enter the Helm. He recognized one of the newcomers as the halfling Bowie Butterball. His eyes then lingered on the beefy dwarf covered in breast plate armor. Probably another Harper, the assassin said to himself.

"I told you we would get to an inn Rouric," Entreri heard the halfling comment.

"This place looks adequate enough," the dwarf remarked. "I'm going upstairs to bathe."

Artemis Entreri kept still as Bowie turned to the dwarf, mentioning something about keeping the door closed so that he didn't frighten any innocent children. The dwarf addressed as Rouric, flipped Bowie a rude gesture, then walked up the stairs.

Should I make myself known to him? Entreri asked himself. He had met Bowie during an expedition to Myth Drannor, and even fought along side the bard against a small force of Zhentarim. Before bits of doubt crepped into his mind, Entreri also remembered that Bowie was related to his friend Dwhavel Tiggerwillies.

But can I truly trust him?

The assassin had little time to answer that question, for Bowie had spotted him and proceeded over to his table. "Artemis Entreri, how are you? Where is your friend Jarlaxle?"

Entreri's eyes snapped forward, his cold expression locked on Bowie, which seemed to have little effect on the halfling. His nose cringed, as if it was hit by a foul smelling odor "I am fine Bowie Butterball…as for Jarlaxle, our business relationship came to an end a short time ago. We parted ways for reasons I wish not to discuss."

Bowie nodded. "You need not discuss it then."

"And do not think about casting one of your bard spells to find out the truth," Entreri added in a harsh voice.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

The assassin gave a nod, wondering if the bard would keep his word. "So why have you and your friend traveled this way?" asked Entreri. "Is it some secret Harper mission?"

After letting out a soft whistle (which immediately drew a glare from the assassin), Bowie smirked. "Rouric and I came this way in search of the Black Chapel, where we will meet an advesary of some sorts. Would you like to join us?"

Entreri's cold stare switched to a look of confusion. "You're asking me to join you? I have heard that Harpers are always on the lookout for recruits."

The halfling shook his head. "This isn't really a recruiting mission. And while I'll try not to offend you while I say this, but it doesn't seem like you're doing anything important. Except going back to Calimport."

Anger flared in Entreri's eyes. "You said you weren't going to cast a spell," he accused.

"I didn't cast a spell," Bowie retorted. "I figured since you and Jarlaxle had parted ways, you would go back to Calimport. Perhaps after Rouric and I finish our business at the Chapel, we can accompany you."

Entreri sat back, contemplating the halfling's offer. Silence pasted between them for another minute, until it was broken by the assassin's answer.

"I will go with you to the Chapel, if you answer me this question."

"And what question would that be?" asked Bowie in a calm manner.

The assassin moved his head closer to Bowie, "That dwarf friend of yours. Rouric is it? Does he do any unnecessary rhyming?"

Bowie shook his head. "Only when he sings, and Rouric has a pretty good voice…for a dwarf.

"I see," the assassin commented with a half-smile. "And more thing Bowie."

"Yes?"

"You might want to take a bath before we leave."

Chapter 2

Marpenoth 22 1369, Year of the Gauntlet

"I'm telling you Bowie, you can't trust a man like this Artemis Entreri," Rouric said in a quiet voice as he and Bowie walked several paces behind the assassin.

They had left the Glowing Helm in the afternoon and traveled along the eastern road that went from Voohlar to the small town of Yulash. While the air on this particular day was cool, the sun and blue sky were covered by thick gray clouds.

"He was a ruthless assassin banished from Vassa by King Gareth Dragonsbane himself," continued the dwarf. "Then there are his many deeds along the Sword Coast."

Bowie Butterball looked forward at Entreri, who had taken on the duty of scouting ahead. Though the assassin showed no obvious reaction to Rouric's accusations, he had a feeling Entreri was walking with a smile on his lips, and his hands on the handles of his bladed weapons.

"This isn't Vassa, or the Sword Coast, Rouric," Bowie argued in a stern voice," and I'm sure Entreri feels the same about us, given the wonderful reputations of the Harpers."

"All I'm just saying is that you can't trust assassins." The dwarf stopped his speaking, seeing the irritation in his friend's eyes. "Bowie, I didn't mean it."

Ahead, Entreri looked back at Bowie, who walked forward while the dwarf continued to banter on about the assassin's more notable exploits. "Curse the Harpers and their ability to find information about a person."

"You forgot about our constant meddling," Bowie remarked as he stepped next to Entreri. Upon seeing the halfling, Entreri looked back at the dwarf, who appeared to be in a conversation with himself."

"He's going over a ballad about Florin Falconhand that he's in the process of writing," said the halfling as he folded his cloak around him. "I am sorry about his outbursts."

"One can not deny the things they have done in the past," Entreri replied in a cold voice. "I should just knife him."

Bowie lifted his chin at the thought. "Now that might not be a bad idea."

Entreri eyes looked upon the halfling once more, this time letting out a soft laugh. He then looked don the road, noticing a tower-like structure in the distance. "It seems like we have found your chapel Bowie."

The bard narrowed his eyes, noticing the tower. "I say we check it. At the very least, the one who resides in the tower may have some knowledge about where the Black Chapel is located."

********************************

The oval shaped tower seemed to extend to sixty feet into the air. Its ash colored stone exterior, featured many images of animals, drawn in white paint.

"Do we just knock?" Rouric asked his two companions. After hearing the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance, both Entreri and Bowie were hesitant to use the gold horse-shoe shaped knocker that hung in the middle of the wooden door.

It was then the door opened. Standing in the doorway was a small blond haired halfling child, dressed in brown vestments and leather breeches.

"Good afternoon sirs and welcome to Oster's tower. I am Oster's apprentice, Jarnadin Bucklesprouts, and I am to bring you to Oster. Follow me please."

The gray orbs in Entreri's face studied the small child, wondering exactly what kind of person the boy was apprenticing to. Rouric and Bowie exchanged glances, both guessing this Oster was some kind of wizard.

"Come now," Jarnadin said to them," the master does not like to be kept waiting."

*********************************

"This isn't anything like I expected," Bowie said as they stepped into Oster's tower.

Scattered all over the tower were trees with thick branches and leaves. On the corners and walls were bushes and vines; some of which rose from the floor and extended to the ceiling. Animals of all shapes and sizes were running around the tower, as if they were outside.

"He must be a druid," Rouric said as a red furred fox and a gray haired dire wolf walked past him. A shiver went through the dwarf's skin when he noticed the wolf's hungry eyes look in his direction.

"A tasty dwarf snack before dinner," Entreri whispered in Rouric's ear.

Rouric shook his head. "Nah, the wolf would be spitting out yellow hairs for weeks." When he saw the dire wolf walk over to Bowie and lick the halfling's fingers, the dwarf added," He'd probably enjoy some halfling cutlets instead."

Ignoring the taunts of his dwarf companion, Bowie watched as a tall human with skin as dark as charcoal, descend from the stair case opposite of the door. His head was clean shaven. He had wide brown eyes, and a thick gray beard. Covering his thin figure were vestments that matched Jarnadin's.

"I see you gentlemen have met my fellow tenants," the man said in his deep voice. "I am Oster Berilak, a druid in service to Eldath."

The halfling bowed as the dire wolf walked over to the staircase to greet his master. "I am Bowie Butterball. The dwarf is Rouric Balderk and the man is Artemis Entreri. If I may ask, do you have any knowledge of the Black Chapel, or a man dressed in green silks that might pass here from time to time?"

Bending down to pet the dire wolf, Oster thought about the halfling's question. "I think there is a chapel that lies up the road, but I have never seen a man dressed in green come from that direction.

"It looks like we continue down the road then," Entreri said coldly.

The druid shook his head. "You can not walk out in the road, not while there is a storm coming. Stay here in my tower for the evening. If you walk quickly enough, you could reach the tower by the afternoon. In fact I could have Gawain here show you the way." The dire wolf raised his head at the sound of his name.

Bowie and Entreri looked at each other, both of them questioning whether or not the druid's kindness was in actuality some sort of diversion.

Rouric, whose eyes had been following a deer while he listened to the conversation between Oster and Bowie, noticed a large round shield mounted on the fireplace. The shield appeared to be made of iron, and in the middle of the shield was an image of an upright gauntlet with an eye in the middle. "It is rare to find a treasure made of metal, in the home of a druid," the dwarf said, pointing to the shield.

Oster smiled as he looked up at the shield. "The shield you see belonged to my friend Veradess Barrelin, a warrior in service of the god Helm. He left it with me before he went to fight an evil Banite priest many years ago. Sadly he never came back for it."

Making his decision, Bowie looked at his two companions, then at the druid. "We welcome your hospitality and would be honored to stay in your tower on this long night."

The druid flashed a wide smile. "Splendid. Perhaps you three will join me and Jarnadin in the dining hall, where a feast of vegetables and herbs is waiting for us."

Bowie and Entreri exchanged glances once more, while a sour look washed over Rouric's face. "No meat?"

Oster shook his head. "No meat."

The dwarf sighed, looking up at the vines that hung from the ceiling. "This is going to be a long night."

Chapter 3

Marpenoth 22-23 1369 DR, Year of the Gauntlet

Just after dinner, Oster and Jarnadin went to put the animals to bed, leaving their guests free to explore the tower. Rouric, who was still hungry, despite eating three full plates of vegetables, took to searching the kitchen for any sign of edible meat (though he had been warned by Oster not to try and eat any of the animals). Bowie and Entreri were sitting in the tower lobby, examining the shield while listening to the pouring rain hit the tower's roof.

"Do you think the druid was telling the truth about the shield?" Entreri asked Bowie.

The halfling bard started at the object on the wall. Challenging the power of his bardic abilities, he began to recite a ballad about the hero Flfar Starbrow.

While listening to the halfling's beautiful singing, Artemis Entreri watched as the shield seemed to lift itself off of the wall and hover over to the halfling.

Bowie gently grabbed the shield and turned it over to the other side. His eyes widened in amazement when he saw an image of a beautiful woman dressed in white robes. She stood in front of a waterfall flanked on both sides by trees. In her hands, she carried a net comprised of white webbing. "Interesting," he commented. "I think Oster's friend Veradess was a devoted followed of Eldath. But on the front of the shield is the symbol of Helm, which means he served that god as well."

Normally the assassin wouldn't care about the religious choices of men. Yet part of him was intrigued at Bowie's discovery. "He worshipped two gods?"

Bowie shrugged. "That or perhaps this woman is his betrothed. If that is the case, he must have used this shield as inspiration for when he went battle, though it wouldn't explain why he left it here when he went to fight that priest."

"As I recall, Bowie Butterball carries a token of his lady love," remarked Entreri.

"This amulet I wear is a token of my lady's love," Bowie responded as his ears picked up a growling noise coming from the other end of the lobby.

In a moment of quickness, Bowie drew Vithril while Entreri drew both his jeweled dagger and the long sword named Charon's Claw. The blade of Charon's Claw cast a wicked red glow as the assassin spotted three large boars with glowing green eyes, circling him and Bowie.

Without warning, the boars charged at Entreri. The assassin stepped back and swiped Charon's Claw in a low arc. A trail of black ash leaked from the glowing blade, blinding the boars. Entreri stabbed his dagger through the ash, piercing one boar's snout, then slashed Charon's claw in a vertical stroke, finishing the boar he had just wounded.

The other two boars let out feral roars and jumped at the assassin.

While Entreri was able to stab his dagger through one boar's gullet, spilling its life blood on the front of his black armor, the other boar rushed past him and charged at Bowie.

Bowie Butterball moved just in time to evade the animal's charge. When the boar realized it missed the intended target, he turned his head-only to see Bowie Butterball drive his short sword through the middle of its skull.

"I knew this had to be a trap," yelled Bowie as he withdrew Vithril from the boar's head. He looked all over the lobby, waiting any other animals to attack.

"What is going on here?" Oster screamed from the top of the stairwell. When he saw the bodies of the three boars lying on the floor, surrounded in pools of their own blood "Oh no, the boars escaped."

Entreri leaped over to the stairs to meet the druid. "Three of your animals just attacked us," he announced while pointing Charon's Claw forward. "Care to explain?"

Oster breathed rapidly as he looked at the assassin's sword. His eyes wandered over to the shield and once more to his fallen animal friends. "Some of the animals that live in this tower have some sort of curse on them. At night they go into rages. That is why Jarnadin and I lock up these animals at night." He paused as Entreri moved Charon's Claw an inch forward, cringing as he felt the power radiating the glowing blade.

"Perhaps this is a misunderstanding," Bowie said, putting Vithril away. "Maybe they attacked because we were looking at the shield, or we theatened them in some way. I apologize Oster. I will put the shield back and we will leave."

Entreri shot a glare in Bowie's way, silently condemning the halfling for his weakness. Oster stepped back from the assassin and took a deep breath. "No Bowie, it wasn't your fault. Our agreement still stands, and tomorrow when you leave, I will have Gawain accompany you."

"Does Gawain have the same affliction as the other animals?" the assassin asked as his eyes wandered over to Bowie.

"Gawain is my oldest friend," the druid responded as he walked up the stairs," and for all of the years that I have known him, he has never attacked another being, unless my life was in danger."

The halfling stared at Entreri, whose cold expression now felt like a weight on his chest. "Those animals were bewitched somehow. Not by Oster, but by something else."

Entreri was about to say something, when he saw all three of the animal corpses stand themselves up. His first thought was that they were undead, but then he saw one boar's bleeding stomach expand and deflate.

"Well there's something you don't see everyday," Bowie said with a smirk. His turned to the assassin, who sat up against the wall, his head in his hands. "Are you all right Artemis?"

"I am going to sleep now Bowie. You can wake me up when we leave."

************************************

"Couldn't you have let me sleep a little longer," Rouric complained as he and his fellow travelers followed the dire wolf under the morning sun.

"We could feed you to the wolf if you'd like," Entreri responded in a cold voice. "Oster told Bowie and me that he likes the taste of dwarf." The dwarf reacted to the assassin's taunting with a snort while Bowie laughed.

For another hour they continued quietly down the wet road, until Gawain stopped at a large stone structure. Two marble columns were lined along the front of the building. Green and black banners were wrapped around each of the columns. Drawn on one of the banners was an upright open hand with two open eyes in the middle.

"This has to be it," Bowie whispered as he scratched Gawain behind his ears. "Judging by the design of the symbol, it looks like a temple dedicated to Iyachtu Xvim."

"Iyachtu Xvim?" Entreri asked, looking at Bowie.

"The godson of Bane," said Rouric as Gawain walked past him. "He recently rose to divinity after being freed from Zhentil Keep, or at least that's what the priests in Shadowdale say. Well Bowie it looks like we have reached the end of our little adventure."

Bowie looked back, seeing Gawain's sad eyes stare back at him and his two companions. "No Rouric, I feel our little adventure is just beginning."

Chapter 4

Marpenoth 23 1369, Year of the Banner

The three companions walked through the chapel, observing the many carvings, tapestries, and oil paintings that were dedicated not only to the glory of Bane's godson, but to the fallen god Bane as well.

"I wish someone could tell me why I have this desire to see this place burned to the ground," Bowie said in a soft voice as they approached an open doorway.

"So where is our old friend?" questioned Rouric, his eyes canning the walls.

"Maybe your old friend is behind that door," suggested Entreri as he pointed to his left.

At the assassin's words, Bowie dashed to the door and gently pushed it open. Behind the door, was a room engulfed in darkness.

Six pairs of emerald green eyes stared back at the bard, which caused him to fall back and draw his short sword. Two large hounds emerged from within the room, their eyes focused on the halfling.

"Just like the boar," Bowie whispered as they charged.

One hound leapt at Bowie, but the halfling made a hard back handed slash that cut the hound across the throat.

The wounded animal landed on the ground, blood dripping from the cut in its neck. The other hound rushed at the halfling, head butting him in the stomach.

The halfling let out a gasp after and stepped backwards. Before the hound could attack again, Bowie stabbed Vithril in the hound's left eyes. He pulled his weapon back as the hound's feet began to tap and shuffle repeatedly on the floor. Puss and blood leaked from the hound's wounded eye as Bowie finished the beast with two quick swings of his short sword that connected with the hound's face.

A few feet away from where Bowie had killed the hounds, Rouric and Entreri were now fighting the remaining animals, who had jumped from out of the room the moment the halfling's blade had killed the first hound.

The dwarf gave a mighty swing of his battle axe, decapitating one of the green eyed beasts. Another hound approached Rouric, its large jaw full of sharp teeth dripping with saliva.

Rouric stepped left, attempting to avoid the beast's attack, but the dwarf's reflexes weren't fast enough. The hound's jaw bit into Rouric's left shoulder, breaking through the skin.

The dwarf let out a cry as the sharp pain went through his body. He gathered what strength he could into his right arm and drove the sharp edge of his battle axe deeply into the hound's back.

As Rouric was pushing the now lifeless hound off of his arm, Entreri fought the other two hounds with grace and perfect balance. He toyed with the animals, slapping them with his weapons as they snarled.

Getting bored with teasng his opponetts Entreri moved with lightning speed, making a well-calculated stab with his dagger in one hound's exposed right side, then slashed Charon's Claw across the creature's jaw.

After seeing its fellow canine fall, the last hound jumped at Entreri, but the assassin's quick reflexes helped him dodge the hound's attack.

The moment the hound's feet touched the ground, Entreri stabbed his dagger through the creature's back, twisting the blade as it ripped through the skin and muscle. He closed his eyes as he heard the hound whimper from being drained of its life force.

Pulling the dagger out when the hound ceased its movement, Entreri stepped back and looked at Bowie, who was standing over the corpses of the animals he had killed.

"What were those things?" asked the dwarf as he cleaned the blood and gore from his axe. "I mean they were hounds, but their eyes…"

"Like the boars back at Oster's tower," said the assassin," so they might come back to life."

Bowie looked at the room where the hounds had come from. "Darkness still covers the room. Rouric, can your eyes see through the darkness

The dwarf shrugged as he walked over to Bowie.

He stepped inside of the room, switching to his dark vision. The room appeared empty, except for what Rouric perceived was a table with a book lying at the center. Wasting no time, Rouric grabbed the book and walked out of the room.

"I found this," Rouric said as he presented the book to Bowie and Entreri. It was a small black leather bound book, with the name Cladius Fraust imprinted in gold lettering on the front cover.

Bowie gently took the book and flipped through the pages. On the last page with writing, Bowie read an entry about Fraust's desire to become a lich. He flipped back a few pages and noticed another entry that captured his interest. "It says here that Cladius defeated a warrior named Veradess."

"Oster's friend?" asked Rouric.

Bowie handed Entreri the diary. The assassin turned to a page and quickly read the words and shook his head. "It seems this priest wanted to become a lich, but he also didn't want to anger his god. In this entry, he talks about converting from the worship of Bane to Xvim."

"If he became a lich, it means that he must still be alive," Rouric commented. "In a matter of speaking."

A hideous high pitched laugh echoed through the chapel just after the dwarf had finished his words.

"I guess it does," Bowie whispered, looking at his two companions. "I wonder if this is what the man in green meant when he made us promise to come here and face a challenge similar to him."

Entreri closed his eyes while Bowie and Rouric continued their discussion. He had faced a lich in Vassa, and little desire to do so again. Still he had agreed to come with Bowie and Rouric. "So where do we find him, so that we can finish him."

Bowie looked at the book. "If he is a cleric, then he'll most likely be in some kind of altar room." The halfling grinned. "And that is where his demise will take place."

Chapter 5

Marpenoth 23 1369, Year of the Gauntlet

It had taken the three companions an hour to find the entrance into the altar room. As they walked into the vast chamber filled with armored statues, they heard someone shouting a prayer to their god.

"Oh Godson of Bane, grant me the power to vanquish these intruders," Cladius said in a low, raspy voice.

When Bowie, Rouric, and Entreri drew their weapons, they saw the lich, donned in faded green robes that were torn and tattered along the edges. Around the lich's neck was a gold medallion that hung on a thin chain. Embedded in the center of the medallion was a small green gemstone.

"Greeting gentlemen and welcome to your doom," greeted Cladius as he turned to face the intruders. Strips of his dead skin dangled from his bones as the cleric raised his hand and whispered the command that released his spell. Several thin purple colored bolts shot from the lich's bony fingertips and flew wildly around the room.

Entreri raised his right hand. His magical gauntlet caught many of the purple bolts, which he threw at the walls. Bowie began singing an elvish song, his bardic music created an invisible shield that deflected the lich's bolts.

Rouric let out a gasp as three bolts hit his chest. He then let out a scream as his limbs began to freeze in place.

As his body fell into paralysis, the axe in his hands fell from his grasp.

Watching Rouric becoming paralyzed, Entreri and Bowie ran at the lich. The assassin was the first to reach the undead priest, as he brought Charon's Claw across the lich's shoulder, chipping off a handful of bone shards from the lich's skeletal body. He then stepped to the lich's left, and with a twist of his left hand, planted a well-placed strike in the center of the medallion.

Before Bowie couldmake his own attack, Cladius vanished, then reappeared near the wall opposite of where Entreri and the halfling were standibng.

The lich's left bony hand clutched his broken medallion. "You dare attack a priest, in the house sacred to Iyachtu Xvim?"

"Your god, whoever he may be, is nothing to me," Entreri spat as he moved towards the lich.

Seeing the assassin approaching, the lich released another spell, this one creating a large stone wall that rose in front of him. Entreri was about to step around the wall, when Bowie's musical voice grew louder.

Behind Entreri, the halfling had put away his sword and pulled out his harp, moving on to new song as he plucked the strings of his instrument. He sang about the fall of Myth Drannor, and though the assassin didn't know much about the elven city, other than what he had explored in the ruins, a part of him was moved by the ballad.

Several feet away, Rouric regained control of his body and rose to his feet. His eyes saw the several green eyed hounds standing in the doorway. Letting out a cry to Moradin, Oghama, and Tymora, he picked up his battle axe and charged the beasts.

Continuing to sing his song, Bowie focused the energy of his bardic power on the stone wall. Staring at the wall, he sang;

A wall made of stone, granted by the power of a god.

Like the city of Myth Drannor that stood proud and tall

Your desire to stand forever is arrogant and sad.

And so stone obsruction I command you to fall.

Artemis Entreri, who very few times in his life had been surprised, watched in astonishment as the stone wall, which had been raised by the priest's magic, fell over at the bard's command.

"Lord Xvim, why have you forsaken me?" cried Cladius Fraust just as the wall crushed his bones.

Bowie and Entreri stood there for a moment, wondering if Cladius was truly destroyed. "Maybe his soul left to the Hells from which it came," Entreri guessed, remembering how he had broken the priest's medallion.

Bowie nodded. "Some evil priests who become liches aren't very wise when they choose their phylacteries. Wizards will put the safety of their souls in precious gems, or boxes, and hide them hundreds of miles away. Priests will often choose their holy symbols to keep their souls in, because they believe their god will protect them."

Entreri gave Bowie a confused look. "But when one becomes a lich, aren't they sacrificing their mortality and humanity. In their own way, aren't they trying to become like the gods themselves?"

"You make a good point Artemis," the halfling answered," Maybe Cladius was trying to please his god, or rather his god's son. Wait a minute, where's Rouric."

"Standing on top of a pile of canine corpses," replied the dwarf, whose arms and face were decorated with bite and claw marks, as well as dents in his armor.

"Well there's just one last thing to do," Bowie commented as he looked around the altar room.

"And what would that be?" the dwarf asked as he walked over to Bowie and Entreri.

"I don't know about you gentlemen, but I'm going to burn this place to the ground."

The assassin looked at Bowie. "Wouldn't we be offending the god of this place if we set it on fire?"

"Since when did Artemis Entreri wondered what the gods cared about?" Before Entreri could give a response, he continued," Besides, it looks like Xvim abandoned this place when he abandoned his priest."

******************************

That night, the star filled sky was accompanied by thick smoke and a radiant orange glow that came from the burning of the Black Chapel. While much of the temple was made of stone and marble, the banners, paintings, and tapestries made of linen, canvas, and oil burned with ease.

"Do you think priests will come back and rebuild this place?" asked Rouric as he laid out his bedroll.

Bowie shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps, but that isn't our concern. Now we must concentrate on accompanying Artemis to Calimport.

The assassin's cold eyes looked over at the bard. "You do not have to come with me. I can make the journey myself."

"Yes you can," Bowie argued," but it's better to travel with comrades. Especially those who are Harpers because we are so expendable. If Rouric and I perish on our journey, you can just find two new Harpers to accompany you."

Entreri's lips parted in a thin smile. Maybe traveling with Bowie will not be so bad; he thought as he lay back on the grass and closed his eyes.

Watching the assassin lay on the ground, Bowie reached into his pocket and felt the harp-shaped pin lying at the bottom. "I'll wait for another day to ask him," he whispered.

You can try, but even I can see that he won't accept your offer.

Bowie looked over his shoulders, seeing a transparent image of the man in green.

"Veradess, I was wondering when we would see you again," Bowie greeted in a quiet voice.

So you learned my name, and after waiting seven years, you have finally fulfilled your promise.

"Yes, sorry it took so long, But one thing bothers me," Bowie said," if you were killed by Cladius, how were you able to come to Shadowdale all those years ago."

Veradess smiled. I actually fought Cladius ten years ago. Years after my death, I had made a bargain with Eldath and Helm, who let my spirit travel to this plane for one day so that I could choose the one who would avenge my death. When I came to you wearing green, instead of my plate armor, I had planned on that person being Storm Silverhand, but instead you and Rouric took on the task. And with Cladius dead, not only am I avenged, but also Oster's animals who were cursed with their affliction, are now cured. Now I must take my leave. You and your friends have my thanks, and good luck with your journey.

Bowie nodded and watched as Veradess walked away. It was then he remembered about the shield back at Oster's Tower. "Oh well, maybe he went back for it," he said when he looked up at the sky.

Epilogue

Marpenoth 25 1369 DR, Year of the Gauntlet

The priest Fzoul Chembryl sat quietly in his private chambers, which were at the highest level of Zhentil Keep. Closing his eyes, the red haired priest listened obediently as his god spoke to him.

Claudius Fraust was an ingrate, Iyachtu Xvim's voice said inside of the priest's mind. While he may have been a faithful servant to my father, he was a pathetic roach who relied too heavily on my protection. But that isn't why I summoned you Fzoul. I need you to do a task for me.

"Yes milord, what is your task?"

I want you to kill the halfling Bowie Butterball, the god commanded in a cold voice. He has defiled a temple dedicated to me, and therefore he must pay for it with his life.

"For some reason that same sounds familiar to me," Fzoul commented.

It should sound familiar to you. He is the son of the former Zhentarim assassin known as the Orchid.

"But the Orchid was killed many years ago, and while I may sound ignorant, how could it be that she has a son?"

On the contrary. Very few Zhentarim knew the Orchid had a family. She married a Harper, then became one herself. To my knowledge, the Orchid's son actually witnessed her death, as well as the death of the father.

The priest tilted his chin. "Manshoon was close with the Orchid. Perhaps he could help us-"

No! Manshoon must not know of this. His involvement could hurt the Zhentarim and hurt your rise to power. You must be careful in how you do this Fzoul. Bowie has ties with the Seven Sisters, and he travels with one of the most dangerous assassins in Faerun. They are on their way to Calimport as we speak.

"Then it will be in Calimport that we strike against the halfling and his friends," declared Fzoul in an ominous voice.

For Joe Shultz

Author's Note:

All characters, lands, and things belong to the Forgotten Realms, except for the characters, lands, and things that I created. Many of the elements from this story are based from Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. All in all this tale was just a small adventure that Bowie and Entreri ( and Rouric) would have together. And though in Road of the Patriarch, Entreri told Jarlaxle that "Artemis Entreri was dead" I really can't think of anyone else he might be. He is Artemis Entreri and no one else.