“One-eye is a man, then?” Regis asked. “I had thought it a card in a deck.”
“Not a man,” the other patron said cryptically, and the others nearby chuckled.
The halfling left it at that. He moved to a table near the blazing hearth and ordered some food, and was quite pleased at the quality, as he was at the quality of his room when he went up to the second story to retire for the night. He found the posting board at the foot of the stairs, but there was only one caravan listed, and it was bound for Port Llast in the south and not to Icewind Dale.
“They’ll be another before the season’s turn,” Serena called out to him when she noted his disappointment as he stood before the board.
He smiled at her, tipped his hat, and bowed gracefully, then climbed the stairs, knowing full well that more than a few patrons were likely talking about him in the common room below.
He set a trap upon his door, using a shim stuck into the top crease of the jamb to hold a vial of acid he had brewed. Anyone coming through uninvited would be in for a painful surprise.hat playthings we be,” an moisture im
He moved his small bed to the corner across the room that would be most sheltered by the inward swing of the door, then laid his hand crossbow out in easy reach. He re-coated the loaded dart in poison, and set another nearby, nodding approvingly at his handiwork. He had served the Grinning Ponies in many capacities. He was their finest housebreaker when they needed to gather information in places like Baldur’s Gate, and also served well as the group’s alchemist, providing potions of healing and speed and heroism, and this poison he had learned to brew. It was not as effective as the drow sleeping poison it had replaced, for he had no access to the mushrooms unique to the Underdark, but he had found a substitute fungus that grew in the forests around the Crags. The poison might not put anyone of considerable constitution to sleep, but it often made an enemy’s movements sluggish, and as an added benefit, the clever Spider had added some particularly nasty pepper juice that made the small puncture wound of the tiny bolts feel as if it were brought about by a hot poker.
Quite a fine distraction, and thus an advantage, he had learned in fights against those so bitten by his clever weapon.
Before he settled in, tanned the room, peering closely at every crack in the wall through the magnifying prism of his ring in search of secret doors or murder holes.
Still, despite his thoroughness and precautions, he didn’t sleep much that night, fully expecting an ambush, and more than that, trying yet again to reconcile himself to these two very different identities, Spider and Regis. In the south and the east, he had been Spider Parrafin and then, after his flight from Delthuntle, Spider Pericolo Topolino, and hadn’t he made a grand name for himself!
But with Ten-Towns looming before him, not so far and not so long, was he to remain Spider? Or to be Regis again? He laughed as he considered that he had given his pony the same name Bruenor often used for him.
“A little of both and neither of one, then,” he decided, and he tried to sleep. But of course, moving from his contemplations only reminded him of his vulnerability and the potential for an ambush, and with that unsettling thought in mind, his sleep came in fits and starts.
No ambush came, however, and the halfling went downstairs the next morning to find a smiling Serena and a fine breakfast set out for guests of the inn.
What a collection those guests proved to be; ragamuffins, one and all, road-weary, or more likely sea-weary, cast-offs looking for work wherever they might find it. Regis sat in the far corner of the common room, near the hearth and close enough that he could leap through one of the few windows in the place if need be. He had his back against the wall, and kept his head up while picking through his food, his eyes scanning.
It occurred to him that any of the dozen others in the room would kill him for the price of a few pieces of silver.
That realization sent his thoughts back to the heady days of Captain Deudermont, when the goodly man tried to wrest control of the City of Sails from the pirates and the Hosttower of the Arcane. Deudermont had failed miserably, and his loss was Luskan’s loss, as was clearly evident by the decay in both structures and citizens. “Alas …,” Regis heard himself whisper.
All but a couple of the inn’s guests departed soon after the morning meal, but others entered, particularly after Serena took her place behind the bar.
Regis just sat back and watched. Knowledge was his most important ally. In in his previous existence momentcreonformation would keep him alive.
He was no less careful that night, no less attentive the next day, and no less careful the third night at the inn.
The following morning, soon after breakfast, One-Eyed Jax filled with patrons, all milling around.
Regis dared to move to the bar, where Serena warmly greeted him.
“Ah, Master Spider, but you’ve found the gumption to come out of your corner,” she said. “I told you already, you need not be afraid in here, and will not be needing your weapons.”
“I have learned the hard way to be vigilant,” he said.
“Aye,” she agreed. “And that would do you well in most corners of Luskan, and surely in Ten-Towns, when you get there.”
He tipped his blue beret, surprised and quite impressed that she had bothered to remember that little fact about his intended destination. “Busy day,” he said.
“Postings,” she replied, nodding to the board. “For crews, mostly. Many boats putting out to sea in the next tenday.”
“Any heading north?”
Serena laughed. “Might be one or two planning a stop at Auckney, but not to the dale, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Only asking in jest,” Regis replied. “I have been there before, and know well the ice floes floating about to scuttle any who dare sail there.”
“You’ve been there?” Serena asked doubtfully. “And you’re from Aglarond, so you said.”
“Aye.”
“Quite the traveler, then. Have you even passed your teens?”
The halfling laughed and lifted his wine. “I am older than I look, I assure you.”
“Still, I would have thought that one of your … cut, would have gained some notice in coming through Luskan before, yet I’ve not heard tell of Master Spider Topolino until four days ago, nor have any that I’ve spoken to.”
“You have told others of me, have you?”
Serena shrugged. “Luskan’s full of eyes and full of ears. You made an entrance not often seen. If you hoped to escape notice, then know that you failed.”
Regis shrugged and lifted his glass once more. He hopped down from his seat and went to the board, waiting patiently for the taller folk perusing it to move aside, then took his place. Several postings had gone up that morning, mostly for crews, and only one for a caravan, but alas, to Mirabar and not to Icewind Dale.
“It will happen,” Serena consoled him when he returned to the bar.
Soon after, Regis was back in the corner, enjoying his lunch, the common room bristling with patrons. All seemed in a fine mood, and indeed, most of the groups within One-Eyed Jax that day were sharing parting drinks before putting back to sea. Regis enjoyed the spectacle and the many toasts, and found that he was more relaxed in the place now. Indeed, he spent most of his time looking out the window, and held his breath on several occasions when he noticed dark elves strolling by. At one point, a pair of drow came into One-Eyed Jax-and how the other patrons offered deference to them!
They took note of the finline-height: Icreonely outfitted halfling, their stares lingering on him, making him wish that he had dressed a little less colorfully and less richly this day. Indeed, one of the drow went to Serena and began a quiet discussion, and pointedly looked back his way as he did, making no effort to hide the fact that he was inquiring about Master Spider Topolino with the barkeep.
“Wonderful,” the halfling muttered under his breath, and he pondered going over to join the discussion openly.