The Manse of the Sleeping Sorceress
A tale of the Hexblade
I
The bar at the Four Winds was never very crowded. It wasn't cheap enough to attract the sailors and dockhands from Mere's waterfront who were looking for a quick drunk. Nor was it upscale enough for the wealthy merchants and nobles looking to fashionably slum among the less fashionable. Still, the Four Winds did a steady business, especially among a certain clientele which desired the anonymity provided by enough strangers about, but not enough that they could lose track of any one person who might be of interest or, perhaps, not be found by anyone wishing to seek them out.
On this particular evening Vim sat at his table near the end of the bar and watched a small, dark haired man enter. The man was dressed fashionably, but not richly, in dark green velvet doublet and pantaloons with hose of mauve. He held a black hat with a white plume in his hands, and he rolled and unrolled the brim in his hands nervously. He paused for a moment and looked around the room, his face unsmiling and tense. He wandered to the bar and spoke some words with the bartender, who pointed at the table at the end of the bar where Vim sat. The man looked at Vim and walked to the table.
"Are you the Hexblade?" he asked. He regarded Vim who was dressed in simple gray tunic and trousers. Vim was of medium build, medium complexion, and, in short, was indistinguishable in almost every way. Vim intentionally cultivated such an appearance.
Vim looked at the man. The man looked away, then back.
"I was told you might be able to help me with a problem."
Vim continued to gaze at the man. The man looked down and said, "Landrestaal told me where I might find you."
Landrestaal! That was a name Vim had not heard in some time. He appraised the man, then simply said, "Sit."
The man pulled out a chair, placed his hat upon the table, and sat. He sat with his hands in his lap, his back straight, looking anxiously around. Vim sat and quietly appraised him. His nervousness belied competence; this was not a man who was meek or powerless. This was a man unaccustomed to the assistance of others.
"Tell me what it is with which you wish my assistance, and I will see if I can help you."
The man looked at Vim, looked away, then back again. "It is...ahem," he hesitated. "It is a rather delicate matter of a potentially...illicit nature."
Vim kept an outwardly calm exterior, but internally he smiled. Most of his "clients" desired his services for tasks that were far more than merely illicit. He said, "You have a concern. I may possibly assist with this concern. Tell me what this concern is and let me judge as to the...illicitness...of the matter."
"There is a gem...a valuable gem. It has been taken from me and I wish you to retrieve it."
"This sounds like simple burglary. Why come to someone with my particular skills for such a straightforward task?"
"There are...complications."
Vim smiled internally again. Yes, there always are. "And these complications are of a thaumaturgical nature?"
The man nodded.
Vim sat back and considered the man before him. He sensed that there was much to this request, that the man's demeanor was less nervousness at the illegality of the task and more nervousness about the disclosure of something personal. He decided to set the man at ease.
"Surely Landrestaal informed you that my discretion in matters involving clients is absolute."
This worked. The man visibly relaxed, his erect posture sagging to a slouch. He placed his hands on the table in front of him and sighed. He looked up at Vim.
"Of course," he said. "Let me begin again. I am Kyve. There is a gem, a large ruby, that I wish to obtain. It is in a manse in the central district of Mere. I wish you to obtain this ruby from the manse."
Vim kept an outwardly placid appearance but his mind was buzzing with activity. Kyve! He had heard that name before. A personage of importance at the Institute of Magic, associated with rumors of ensorcellments of a particularly powerful kind. The man before him was more than he seemed. That he was requesting assistance from such as him meant that whatever circumstances existed they were unique, potentially hazardous, in the extreme.
"Again, this seems to be a straightforward burglary. While within my capabilities there are others who would perform this task with equal discretion for far less payment. Landrestaal mentioned my fee?"
Kyve nodded. "He did. One thousand sequins. I can pay."
"I have yet to accept. I have heard of you; you are not powerless. Tell me why you can not retrieve this gem yourself?"
Kyve stiffened in his chair. Vim saw the nervousness come back. He realized this would be the crux of the matter; the personal disclosure which drove him to seek outside aid at great personal discomfort.
Kyve said, "The manse is warded."
Vim nodded. "Obviously, if it contains such a valuable item. Yet such wards are not without counter-charms."
Kyve shifted. "Yes, but this particular ward is...unique to an individual."
Vim's mind once again was buzzing, though he kept his face placid. This was a specific ward agains Kyve. Such restraining wards were powerful due to the focus on a single individual. They were also not usually put in place except under the most severe provocation as the sorceries involved were both difficult and required physical tokens of the one warded. Such physical tokens implied intimacy. There was far more going on here than Kyve was disclosing. Personal matters were often unduly vituperative, whether jilted lovers or betrayed business partners. Still, his obligation was not to take sides. It was only to accomplish the task for which he was paid. Caution was warranted, however.
"I see," Vim said. "This requires someone other than the principle to make entry. I assume that other sorcerous, and potentially necromantic, protections will be involved in addition to the restraining ward?"
Kyve nodded. "Yes. Though of what kind and nature I can not say."
Vim considered. Obviously the manse was the home of a thaumaturge, potentially of great skill given the restraining ward. He needed more information.
'Tell me about the owner of the manse."
"She is a sorceress of skill, a native of Far Palladia but recently become resident in Mere."
Vim considered. He had neither sensed or heard of a new mage in Mere. This meant either Kyve was lying or this sorceress was adept at magics of concealment. Probably the latter if Kyve was correct about the restraining ward. More reason for caution.
"Should one expect opposition?" he asked.
Kyve shook his head. "I think not; the sorceress took ship for Far Palladia not six weeks ago and has yet to return. No opposition in the manse beyond more charms and wards and physical protections such as locks and traps."
"Where is the gem located within the manse?"
"My scrying has informed me it is in the attic. Beyond that I know nothing."
Vim drummed his fingers on the table top and considered. There was much that Kyve knew and was not telling him. Caution dictated he refuse the request; curiosity nagged at him to accept it. It did, after all, seem to be a simple burglary. Involving magics, yes, but nothing he could foresee for which he was unprepared. In the end, curiosity won over caution. He thought this was often the case, and one day would be his doom. Hopefully not this day.
"I will accept your commission. Provide me directions to this manse. I will contact you when I have completed the mission. You will provide full payment then upon receipt of this ruby."
"Excellent!" For the first time Kyve smiled. He relayed directions to Vim.
II
Vim left the Four Winds just before midnight. He had spent the rest of the evening dealing with other clients, both accepting commissions and concluding them. As he began walking towards his own dwelling he considered that his route would take him near the manse which Kyve wished him to burgle. He decided to take a slight detour and inspect the place.
He arrived at the manse without incident. Dimly lit by moonlight and the lights from the windows of adjacent houses, he inspected the object of his commission. The building was a simple townhouse; like most dwellings in Mere it was of stone covered in whitewashed stucco with a terra cotta tile roof. The first floor windows were shuttered, the shutters of wood painted bright red. There was a single red door in the center of the wall facing the street.
Vim considered. For some reason the manse had a profound sense of vacancy. He had several general purpose spells already memorized; he could think of no spells which could be of better use than the ones he currently possessed. He might be able to close this commission quickly; at worst he would encounter something requiring more specialized incantations and could return more prepared. He decided to investigate immediately.
First, the matter of the ward. The ward specific to Kyve he knew about; were there others? Vim spoke an incantation, invoking a charm which illuminated magics. This charm would last several hours which was more than Vim would presumably need. As the charm took effect there was a glow in the air; a hemisphere like a shimmering translucent curtain surrounded the manse.
Vim approached the ward, inspected the colors, the nature of the translucency. There appeared to be only one ward present, presumably the restraining ward against Kyve specifically. Vim stepped through the curtain. There was a slight tingle, but nothing else. Kyve had told the truth on this particular.
Vim approached the doorway. He tread carefully along the short walk, inspecting the space in front of him carefully before taking any step forward. No thaumaturgical glow was evident, nor were any mechanical devices apparent. He reached the door, inspected it in a similar manner. No evidence of devices, magical or otherwise, revealed themselves. He tried the latch. As he expected, the door was locked.
It was a simple matter to pick the lock. Once the door was open Vim glanced inside into the darkness. No magical lumination emanated from the darkness. Vim inspected the threshold. No mechanical traps were present. He stepped just inside, swinging the door shut behind him, and spoke a spell of illumination. Immediately a small anteroom was revealed. The room was Spartan; to the right of the door was a coat rack, to the left a small writing table with drawers. Directly across was a door leading, presumably, into the rest of the manse.
Cautiosly Vim moved to the door to inspect it. As he approached he was buffeted backwards by some force. He was not damaged, merely startled. The force had been sufficient to push him back against the outside door, no more. He inspected the intervening space between himself and the further door. No shimmer of glamor or thaumaturgical entity was apparent. He took a step forward. Nothing happened. Another step; again nothing. A third step...and the force buffeted him again, thrusting him back against the outer door.
Vim considered. The buffet itself was physical, not magical, else the charm he had activated would disclose its magics. Some form of telekinesis probably involving the surrounding air. It was magical, but its source was elsewhere. Vim reviewed what he knew. Kyve had disclosed that the occupant of the manse had been absent for several weeks. No normal spell could have lasted that long, though a more powerful ritual, such as the one used to create the restraining ward, might persist until dispelled. Vim had a charm of dispellment of all theurgic warp but was loathe to use it unless he could direct it on the source to be certain of its effect. Besides, two ritual magics in one location was highly unlikely. The time and effort required for just the restraining ward must have been immense. It was doubtful even a powerful sorcerer could erect two such magics in the same location.
There was another possibility to be considered. An object controlled this telekinetic shield. This was a problem if the device were somewhere beyond the door. However...
Vim inspected the antechamber and noted the writing table. He approached it slowly; no telekinetic buffet ensued. He inspected the two small drawers carefully, then reached out and opened the left-hand drawer. Sheets of paper, a quill, a jar of ink. He closed the drawer, opened the right-hand drawer. Inside lay a white handkerchief, neatly folded. He unfolded the handkerchief and was rewarded by the appearance of a magical nimbus surrounding a largish freshwater pearl. Vim picked up the pearl, approached the far door once again. No telekinetic buffet occurred. He inspected the door, carefully turned the knob. The door opened easily. One again Vim paused at the threshold, looking for traps either magical or mechanical. Satisfied there were none, Vim stepped through, placing the pearl in his pocket.
The spell of illumination followed Vim as he moved into the hall beyond the door. This room was narrow, longer than the anteroom. There were doors to the left and right; ahead to the right was another door. Against the left wall was a staircase leading upward. Ignoring the doors Vim moved to the staircase. Kyve had said the gem was in the attic; to inspect other rooms unnecessarily would certainly waste time and potentially use up his remaining spells. Vim had no interest in the rest of the manse and was eager to conclude this business.
Inspecting each step for magical or mechanical traps Vim went up the stairs. He began to wonder at the ease of his entry so far. Was it perhaps too easy? This line of thinking was stopped when he reached the landing at the top of the stairs. The landing above was similar to the room below, with doors to the left, right, and ahead. The ceiling was low. Vim inspected the ceiling and saw a trap door framed above the landing, a small handle on one side. No traps were revealed themselves upon his inspection. He grasped the handle, pulled the trap door downward revealing a small folding ladder attached to the door. He unfolded the ladder and climbed up in to the attic. As his head emerged from the floor above, some fluttering thing swooped down upon him. He lost his grip on the ladder and tumbled down to the landing below.
III
As he fell Vim cursed himself for his carelessness. He hit the landing flat on his back, but rolled immediately to his right and put his back against the far wall, drawing a long knife from his belt as he did so. He stared at the trap door in the ceiling, waiting. Nothing visible came through in pursuit. He sheathed the knife, considered what he remembered of the instant he beheld the creature. It was perhaps the size of a crow. Leathery wings. Arms, legs. A small homunculus, probably the familiar of the resident. If this were true the implications were troubling; familiars could not exist far from their master...or, in this case, mistress. That meant the manse was not unoccupied as Kyve had claimed. Yet...no one had come to investigate his entry. Although Vim had been careful to avoid unnecessary noise, certainly he had not been silent and his recent fall should have been enough to cause any resident alarm.
No, there was something very strange about this situation. Still...he had a task, upon this he must focus. His immediate worry was the winged mannekin in the attic. He took inventory of his remaining spells; he had the charm of dispellment as well as a simple charm of immobilization. He also had the pearl which issued a telekinetic buffet of air. He considered a moment, took the pearl from his pocket, concentrated. He saw a shimmer as of a hand made of air, and the hand responded to his will as if it were his own hand. A very useful item!
Keeping the pearl in his hand Vim climbed the ladder again, but the spectral hand preceded him. Again, the flutter of wings as he emerged through the trap but this time the hand pushed the creature away and against the ceiling. Vim held the creature pinned there, hissing and screeching, as he emerged fully into the attic.
He inspected his surroundings. The attic ran the length of the manse, the sharply sloping roof on either side making it possible to stand upright only in the center of the room. Small round windows on either end let in dim illumination from the street, though the room was adequately lit by Vim's illumination spell. There were trunks, shelves. Most of the shelves were filled with papers, portfolios, a few candles, bottles of unknown substances. One shelf, along the far wall near the window, held a pile of what appeared to be rags. From the rags emanated the bright glow of a powerful charm. Vim moved towards the source of the glow; behind him the creature shrieked, "No! You must not harm the mistress!"
Vim turned, inspected the creature. It was perhaps a foot tall, humanoid, with arms and legs and bat-like wings stretching from its back. Its faced resembled that of a monkey, though without fur. Yellow eyes glared at him as it hissed and struggled against the ethereal hand that held it against the ceiling. Vim approached the creature.
"Your mistress is here?" he asked.
"My mistress! Yes, here...but not here! I must protect the mistress!" The creature was practically weeping in frustration. It was definitely the familiar of the sorceress whose home he had invaded, and its one and only loyalty was to her. Its words confirmed what he already suspected; that the sorceress was nearby but somehow incapacitated or imprisoned rather than absent. He turned back to the magic glow on the shelf, leaving the weeping creature pinned.
The pile of rags appeared to be a makeshift nest. Vim noted that the window next to the shelf was broken, with a pane missing that was just large enough to allow a creature the size of the familiar to enter. He turned to the familiar. "Did you do this?"
The creature hung its head in what appeared to be shame. "Yes, the mistress will be so mad at me for breaking her window! But what was I to do? I could not enter any other way! I could not bring her home any other way!" The creature began weeping again.
Interesting, thought Vim. He carefully inspected the rags, began pushing them away from the glow. Buried deep in the pile he found the source of the glow; it was the gem he sought. It was a ruby the size of the end of his thumb, cut exquisitely to capture and reflect any light. He reached down and picked up the gem. It was warm to the touch. As he grasped it he felt a mild tingle of magic, a moment of giddiness and suddenly he saw himself from outside himself, as if he were looking up at himself from the gem. He dropped the ruby, spoke the charm of dispellment. The giddiness passed; he was himself again looking down upon the ruby in a pile of rags.
Unfortunately the dispellment charm had also dispelled the spell of illumination and of detecting magic. Vim whirled, expecting to see the familiar swooping upon him, but interestingly the sylphic hand was unaffected. Vim looked at the pearl in his right hand and marveled at the usefulness of the device. He turned back to the ruby. Even without the charm that illuminated magics the ruby glowed with a fierce red light from within, made brighter by the many facets cut into the gem. Here was the object of his mission, but it presented a dilemma. The gem contained an entity; he could not touch the gem without risking possession by the entity. Had Kyve been aware of this risk? Possibly so...in which case Vim wondered whether Kyve was interested in the entity rather than the ruby. If the entity possessed Vim and was freed from the gem, then perhaps Kyve's objective was met? Why, though, the specific restraining ward around the manse? Obviously the entity wanted nothing to do with Kyve. There was much here that was cryptic.
Vim shrugged. He must be pragmatic. The gem was here; obtaining the gem and bringing it to Kyve without risk was the issue. He could not grasp the ruby himself, therefore he must use a proxy. Vim considered the telekinetic hand. Here was a dilemma. The hand could certainly carry the ruby for him, but to do so he would have to release the familiar. He was loathe to harm the pitiful creature, but the creature was also bound to the entity within the gem and would follow Vim at all costs. Vim could use the charm of immobilization on the creature but as soon as it wore off the familiar would pursue him. No clear solution presented itself.
Attending to immediate concerns, Vim fumbled among the shelves until he felt a candle in its holder; using flint and tinder he lit the candle. The illumination was less than the spell he had cast, but was sufficient for his purposes. He approached the weeping familiar.
"Do you have a name, familiar?" he asked.
The creature looked at him. "I am Squidgin. Oh, I have failed my mistress! If only I had not dropped the key!"
Vim's attention heightened. "Key? What key?"
Squidgin moaned. "The key to the mistress! Oh, but the wind! It was too much for poor Squidgin! I must drop one or the other to stay aloft! I could not drop the mistress, so I dropped the key!"
Vim considered. This was an interesting bit of information. Possible solutions to his dilemma began to present themselves. "Squidgin, where did you drop this key?"
"Over the sea! The storm came before Squidgin was over land; I had to drop it or I would drown and my mistress would lie forever among the fishes!"
Vim reflected; according to Kyve the resident of the manse had left for Far Palladia some six weeks ago. Sometime during the voyage had she transferred her essence to this gem and had her familiar carry it back to Mere? For what purpose? Vim required more information.
"Squidgin, I am not here to hurt your mistress and I may be able to help you. Answer my questions and I will see what I can do."
Squidgin nodded. "Please, if it will help Squidgin help the mistress, I will answer."
Vim considered. "So your mistress set sail on a ship six weeks ago?"
Squidgin looked pained. "Yes..but she stayed here...oh, Squidgin does not know how to explain."
Vim reflected again; a thought occurred to him. "Squidgin, while at sea did your mistress transfer her...self...to the ruby you brought back here?"
Squidgin nodded. "Yes! I was to bring the ruby and the key back here! But there was a storm and I must drop the key...oh, my mistress is doomed!"
"This key, Squidgin, what did it unlock?"
"The doors! The doors in the house! The door to my mistress! Oh, I can not open the door without the key!"
"Squidgin, where is this door?"
"Under the stairs. My mistress is here, and under the stairs."
Vim smiled, his solution clear. "Squidgin, I can unlock the door for you, but I must ask a favor of you in return."
Squidgin's face beamed, which if anything made him more pitiful than before. "If I can I will do it! Please, open the door for Squidgin!"
Vim said, "All you have to do is carry the ruby downstairs for me."
IV
Vim released the familiar from the spectral hand. Squidgin grabbed the ruby in his hands and flapped down the open hatchway, Vim behind him with the candle. They reached the landing, then went down the steps. Turning left, Vim saw there was a doorway under the stairs. Presumably this led to a closet, perhaps a basement. Vim quickly picked the lock and opened the door revealing steps down. A basement it was.
With a cry of joy the familiar fluttered past Vim down into the darkness. Vim followed as quickly as he could, holding his hand in front of the candle flame. He went down a short flight of stairs to a small cellar room. In the center of the room was a cot, and languishing upon the cot was a woman. She lay comatose, her arms folded across her chest, her eyes closed. She was dressed in a long-sleeved green dress which covered her from neck to ankles; green velvet slippers adorned her feet. She wore a simple belt of silver links around her waist and her blond hair was held back by a silver circlet. Squidgin hovered over her head. "I am here, mistress! Thank you, sir man, thank you!" With that the familiar placed the ruby in the hollow of the woman's throat. The gem glowed brightly for several seconds; the light dimmed, went out. The woman opened her eyes. She turned her head languidly towards the candle light, saw Vim and asked, "Who are you?"
Vim took a step forward. "I am known in Mere as the Hexblade. I accepted a commission to obtain yonder ruby for a client. He claimed it was stolen from him. The client did not inform me of the...complications...such a task would encounter."
She took the ruby from her throat and sat up, swinging her legs to floor. The familiar settled on her shoulder. "He helped me, mistress! Oh, I'm so sorry! I dropped the key but the man helped me!"
The woman stroked the creature and regarded Vim. "I am Calypsandra. I face a dilemma. You have broken into my home with intent to rob me. However, it seems I also owe you a debt of gratitude for assisting in my return to my corporeal form." Her gaze was level, unafraid. "I presume that you will not inform me of who commissioned this burglary?"
Vim shook his head. "I will not speak his name, though I believe you probably already guess his identity." He took another step forward. "May I speculate as to what transpired to set this all in motion?"
She smiled. "Please do...but I am fatigued and would like some refreshment." She stood, speaking a charm. Lights came on in the basement, throughout the manse. She walked up the steps. Vim blew the candle out and followed. They went up the steps, to the door to the right of the stairs into a kitchen. There was a table, chairs, a stove, cabinets, a basin, a water pump by the window. She spoke another charm; a fire lit in the stove. A word to her familiar; he grabbed a kettle, began filling it with water from the pump. The woman sat at the table and beckoned for Vim to sit opposite. He did so, setting the candle on the table. He was wary; her casual control of magic revealed a confidence and skill in thaumatrugy to which he could only aspire. She regarded him blandly. "Please," she said, "Tell me what you have intuited."
Vim nodded. "I can only speak to facts in evidence. You placed a ward specific to my principle around your manse; this speaks to acrimony on the part of you and him. I believe you had a plan to distract him from providing unwanted attention for some time. To whit, you created a simulacrum of yourself, imbued it with your essence, and left your true body here in the manse. You, or rather your copy, took ship to Far Palladia in the hopes that my principle would think you had left permanently and possibly even follow in pursuit. After some time at sea, but not too far else your familiar might not make the journey safely, you imbued your essence into the ruby. Beforehand you instructed your familiar to fly back here and place the jewel on your body, at which point you could repossess yourself. You could not foresee a sudden storm that created difficulties for your familiar while still over the Vitruvian Sea; faced with imminent foundering he was forced to jettison the key that unlocked the doors to this manse to convey your essence safely here. He has been guarding said essence in the attic since."
The kettle whistled; the familiar busied himself making tea. The woman nodded. "You are astute as well as resourceful; I am impressed you worked that out. Indeed, the entity that took ship from Mere was a mere puppet, a creation of dust and ice. All the crew on the ship would find after my essence left it is a muddy puddle." The familiar placed a cup of hot tea in front of her, another in front of Vim. She raised the cup to her lips, sighed, regarded Vim. "You know the what, but not the why."
Vim nodded. "I have my guesses, but it is merely speculation. If you care to enlighten me I will listen."
She considered, then said, "Why not?" She took a sip of tea and began. "I came from Far Palladia to research the original writings of the revered Menemiades the Multicolored who formed the principles of magic eons ago. The institute here in Mere contains a vast trove of ancient documents not available in my native land. I was assisted by the members of the Institute; all were helpful, especially, at first, the one known as Kyve." She paused to see if the name evoked a reaction from Vim, but he kept his face impassive.
"My researches went well; Kyve is a scholar and mage of some repute and with his assistance I made great progress until Kyve misinterpreted my academic interest for romantic intent. I politely rebuffed him, but afterward he became acrimonious in the extreme."
Vim nodded. "This was my guess, given the specific ward."
She nodded. "Yes, I was forced to erect the ward because he was constantly coming to the house and haranguing me. Even after I erected the wards he would wait outside, interecept me as I went about my business. He went from a help to a hindrance. My research was stalled; I had to do something to divert his attentions in order to complete my thesis. Thus, I hatched the plan you outlined. It seemed fool proof; he would think I had gone home and would either follow or no longer trouble me as I went about my work."
She sipped tea again. "Somehow he saw through the subterfuge, though apparently not immediately. I wonder if it was that the wards did not fade? If I was truly absent the wards would have weakened with time; my essence maintained them at strength." She stared thoughtfully into the distance, then shrugged. "How he knew is irrelevant. He found out, and hired you to obtain my essence for some nefarious purpose."
"What do you intend to do?" asked Vim
"I do not know. I would like to conclude my research, but it will be impossible with Kyve's interference."
Vim thought for a moment, then said, "Though my principle has been less than straightforward I am honor bound to fulfill my commission. I came for the ruby. Obviously my principle intended that it still be occupied, though he failed to inform me on that particular. Thus I can fulfill the letter of my obligation since his intent was concealed. Once my commission is completed on this particular account I am free to exercise the completion of other contracts. Including those that would be counter to the interests of my current principle since I would be free of any obligation to him." He looked at Calypsandra to see if she comprehended his meaning.
Calypsandra looked at him intently and said, "So you would be amenable to another business engagement immediately following the conclusion of your current contract?"
Vim smiled. She had understood his meaning. "Indeed; in fact, the particulars can be negotiated prior to implementation such that there is no delay in their conclusion." He looked down at his right hand, placed the pearl he held there on the center of the table. "Before I forget, here is your pearl which controls the sylphic hand. A most useful item."
She looked at the pearl, then at Vim. "So you are a man of integrity, at least so far as it involves what you are commissioned to accomplish." Vim nodded assent, though she had phrased the comment as a statement and not a question.
She took another sip of tea, and asked "How much is your fee?"
Vim smiled. "One thousand sequins, payable upon completion."
She smiled as well. "I think we can come to an arrangement."
V
Two nights later Vim leaned against a piling of a vacant wharf on the Mere waterfront. The moon was bright; its light shimmered on the waves and ripples of the harbor. The breeze brought faint sounds of revelry from the waterfront taverns, yet this section of waterfront was quite unpopulated. The view, the faint sounds were lovely but the ripe smell of rotten seaweed from the harbor spoiled the effect. Vim thought it was always thus; beauty was always tinged with rot and decay. Such was the universe.
He stood upright as a figure strode towards him from inland. Kyve stopped in front of him, looking peevish. He glanced from side to side. "Such an unseemly place to meet! Could we have not met elsewhere?"
Vim shrugged. "It suits my purposes. I have the gem you desire. Have you my payment?"
Kyve held up a purse. "One thousand sequins. Give me the ruby first!"
Vim reached into a pocket, withdrew the ruby, and handed it to Kyve. Kyve inspected it, grimaced. "This is not as anticipated!"
Vim remained nonchalant. "I fail to understand your meaning. I was to obtain a ruby from the attic of a specific manse. This is the ruby that was present in that location. I have fulfilled my contract."
Kyve frowned. "Bah!" he exclaimed. "I refuse to pay!"
Vim took a step towards Kyve, menace now apparent in his demeanor. "I have obtained that which you hired me to obtain. You know of my reputation. Is this the course you wish to pursue?"
Kyve backed up, hesitated. He glanced nervously around as if seeking help; no one else was to be seen. He looked at Vim who stood, arms crossed, glowering at Kyve. Kyve threw the purse at Vim with a curse. Vim caught it in his left hand and said, "My thanks. Our business is thus concluded. Now on to the next item of business."
Kyve had begun to turn away, but now stopped. "What other business?"
Vim smiled. "That involving another client."
Calypsandra stepped out from behind the pilings. Kyve started, turned to flee but she spoke a charm of immobilization and he immediately froze in place. Calypsandra made a gesture; Kyve was impelled to turn and face her. "Yes, Kyve. It is I. How shall I take retribution for all you have cost me? Shall it be the gyrator? Perhaps I shall split you a thousand fold with the spray...no, too quick. The gyrator, I think..." There was a cough from beside her. Vim glanced at her, looking slightly embarrassed. "M'lady, before you begin...?" he said. She laughed, handed him a purse. "One thousand sequins, good Hexblade." With that she turned back to Kyve.
Vim walked back in the direction of the Four Winds bar. All in all, he thought, a most profitable enterprise. He never heard Kyve's screams.