That prompted Entreri to glance around at those fallennear to the drow mercenary, most squirming on the floor weirdly.
Drow poison, Entreri recognized, a paralyzing anddebilitating mixture.
"And so I should be ready to take this pair, Isuppose?" Entreri asked.
"Yeah stop yer blabbering and let us go!" one of the thugs demanded, and to accentuate his point, he brought his shortsword up against the throat of one of the girls.
Entreri watched Jarlaxle's delicate movement, a slightturn to put himself in better alignment with the rogues.
Entreri gave a shout and charged forward.
Jarlaxle's walking stick clicked twice in rapid successionand the poor girls screamed.
But both men fell back from them, each hit in the faceby a stinging needle. One recovered quickly, to his credit, while theother, a needle buried deep into his eye, thrashed about on the stone floor.
As for the other, he would have been better off had henot recovered, for as he reached back for the girl, she was suddenly thrownaside, her place taken by Artemis Entreri.
The man responded with a thrust of his sword, but theassassin parried it once, twice, thrice, moving it to a lock between his daggerand sword, where a twist and flick of his wrists had the blade flying free.Before the man could even respond, before he could plead for mercy or surrender,if that was his intent, or before he could punch out with his bare hands, ifthe fool had that in mind, Entreri was suddenly up against him, both theassassin's blades buried to the hilt into his chest.
A sudden shove dropped him dead to the floor.
And still the girls were screaming. And still many ofthe others joined in, or flopped about on the floor.
"We should be leaving," Entreri suggested,turning around to regard his friend, who was standing calmly again, leaning onhis walking stick.
"Indeed," Jarlaxle agreed, motioning to thecave opening, where his globe of darkness was now gone, and gone, too, was theman Jarlaxle claimed had taken much of his coin. "To the hunt?"
"What about them?" Entreri spat with obviouscontempt, as he regarded the two shivering girls.
"Our rescue would be less than complete if we didnot escort them to their homes," the drow answered, and it seemed toEntreri as if both the poor girls would just fall over and die. "And thereis Piter, of course," the drow added, and he called loudly,"Piter?"
The fat baker came out from around a rock near theback of the cave.
"Come along then, friend," said the drow."I am afraid that I cannot deliver a proper oven to you here, so we mustsettle for depositing you back in your shop where you belong."
It occurred to Entreri then that he and his companionhad garnered no spoils from their two-tenday adventure, and indeed, ifthey could not catch up to the fleeing thug, had apparently lost some coin. Hetook out his frustration on the face of one unfortunate rogue who was trying torise against the pervasive pull of the drow poison, kicking the man hard in theface and laying him low.
"Be at ease, my friend," said Jarlaxle."You are a hero! Does it not fill your heart with joy?"
Entreri's returning expression could not have been abetter combination of venom and incredulity.
But of course, Jarlaxle merely laughed.
"He is reveling in the adoration ofgratitude?" asked Kimmuriel Oblodra, the handsome and slender drowpsionicist whom Jarlaxle had placed in charge of Bregan D'aerthe.
"That one?" Jarlaxle replied with a chuckle."He is too suspicious and angry to allow himself such pleasantries. Ireally must find him a woman who will help him to release his tensions."
"By killing her?" the other dark elf saidwith obvious contempt.
"He is not as bad as that," said Jarlaxle.He glanced back in the direction of the small fishing community where Entreriwas waiting, though of course the buildings and the assassin were long out ofsight. "There is hope for that one."
"With the right teacher?"
Jarlaxle turned back to Kimmuriel and asked, "Isthere any better?"
The other drow respectfully bowed.
"How did you find the walking stick?" heasked as he straightened.
"It is slow in the loading, but was quiteenjoyable in action. And effective, yes."
"I find your demands pleasantlychallenging," Kimmuriel replied, and he held out one hand, dangling aneye patch and holding a wide-brimmed hat that perfectly resembled Jarlaxle'sown. Jarlaxle removed his hat and swapped it with the new one after only a cursoryinspection, then spent more time in comparing his own eye patch with the one hewas trading, even ensuring that the stitching was identical.
"They will offer me new opportunities?" Jarlaxle asked.
Kimmuriel looked as if he might pout, and the otherdrow retracted the doubt with a burst of laughter. Had Kimmuriel everdisappointed him in that regard, or in any regard, for that matter?
Almost as an afterthought, Jarlaxle pulled the plumeout of his newly-acquired hat and handed it over, plucking his old plume backand slipping it into his new hat's band.
"I have grown fond of the beastly bird itsummons," Jarlaxle explained.
"But did you not fear that the man beside you wasfiguring out your various tricks?" Kimmuriel replied. "Was that notthe point of this exchange?"
"Entreri is a clever one," Jarlaxleadmitted. "But we have thrown him off any advantage he might have gainedwith this trade, even though you have not yet prepared my new bracers."
"And if you are wrong?"
Jarlaxle's face grew very tight and threatening, butonly for a second.
"I will find him a woman," the drow decidedwith a wide and confident grin. "That will take the sting from hisdagger."
Kimmuriel nodded, and Jarlaxle, so enamored of hissudden plan, didn't even bother to get a complete report of the goings-on inMenzoberranzan from his trusted drow friend, but just turned and skipped offback toward the town.
With a thought, literally, the powerful KimmurielOblodra was back into the Underdark.
Leaving Jarlaxle alone to plan his next escapade withArtemis Entreri.