Once Around the Realms

Chapter 25

As per usual, Volo took upon the role of tour guide as they approached the city, giving his fellow travelers a little background.

"Known as 'the place that is halfway to everywhere,' " the master traveler began, "Baldur's Gate is actually two cities, one walled and the other, more recent, addition to its borders outside the wall. It seems that the city thrived like a sprouting child and had to burst its seams. It is ruled by the Four Grand Dukes who are also called the Council of Four. The city is renowned as one of the most tolerant but also quietly well policed places in the western Realms."

Volo saw that he was beginning to lose his audience to wandering thoughts and decided to bring his spiel to an end. "From what I understand it also has a thriving thieves' guild, which has been known to work with the local authorities to crush illicit and illegal activities that they might consider unfair competition."

"You can say that again," Passepout whispered under his breath.

Volo paused for a moment, thinking that he had heard something. Curtis and Shurleen were quietly enjoying each other's company as if this were no more than a walk on a summer's day. Turning to the chubby thespian, he asked, "Did you say something, Passepout?"

"No, Mister Volo," the thespian replied, resuming his distant silence.

Volo's offhand comment about Baldur's Gate being well policed turned out to be true.

Passepout was arrested within moments of his entering the city. The guards were well mannered but firm, and the chubby thespian did not put up a fight.

"Passepout!" Volo demanded. "What's going on?"

As the guards slipped a pair of shackles on him, he asked, "Can I just say good-bye to my friends?"

"All right," the captain of the guard, whose name was Gehrard, replied, "but be quick about it."

"I'm sorry, Mister Volo," the chubby thespian replied dolefully.

"What is going on?" the master traveler demanded.

"As I'm sure you know, acting is not always the most lucrative of professions. My dear parents Idle and Catinflas often had to occasionally pick pockets to help make ends meet, a trade they were all too willing to pass on to their son. We were performing to meager audiences on the outskirts of town and found that we once again had to supplement our earnings with a little unvolunteered gratuity from some of our audience. How were we to know that the thieves' Guildmaster Ravenscar was in the audience? He called out the city guard, and we were arrested. I managed to escape, but Mom and Dad are still in prison."

Volo turned to Gehrard, and said, "Surely, we can work something out?"

"Afraid not," the captain replied. "When this here fellow escaped, I was held to blame and demoted. On that day I swore out a magical warrant on the city gates that would let me know when, if ever, he returned to the city, because if he did I swore that I would once again bring this fugitive to justice."

"It doesn't sound like justice to me," Shurleen interjected.

"Doesn't matter," the captain stoically replied, beginning to escort the thespian to the jail. "A nice long prison stay is waiting for him, but cheer up, the last fellow I brought in was sentenced to have his arm hacked off before being sent to gallows, but then again he did murder the wife of one of the city's most famous clerics."

Passepout looked back at his friends, and said, "Sorry."

Hanging his head in shame, he was led off by the guards.

"What can we do?" Shurleen asked. "We can't just leave him here."

Volo was very aware of this. He had grown attached to his rotund companion and had no desire to see him left rotting in some dark prison cell. The fact that he and Passepout were still magically bound together was entirely secondary.

"Well, if we're going to do something, we'd better do it fast," Curtis replied. "We have to get back to Suzail to inform Khelben and the War Wizards of Hlaavin's plans."

Volo was torn.

"You two go to Suzail," he decided. "I'll stay here and think of something."

"We won't go without you and Passepout," Shurleen demanded. "Right, Curtis?"

"Right," the beachcomber responded in agreement without thinking, which Volo always accepted as a necessary talent for any good husband.

"I guess that leaves us no choice," the master traveler replied. "We have to arrange a jailbreak."

Volo knew that the jail was one of the oldest buildings in the city, and that the holding cell for new prisoners was near an exterior wall on the surface level of the structure, the dungeon being reserved for serious criminals and killers. He was sure that Passepout would be classified as neither.

"If I'm not mistaken, the salt air has been playing havoc with the external walls of many of the local structures that have been around a while, and since usually the first two buildings that are put up when one builds a city are the temple of the patron's choice and the prison, I'm sure that the prison's wall are the worse for the wear. I understand that the Council of Four has funded an extensive city renovation program to shore up the old structures, but I sincerely doubt that the prison is high on their list of priorities. All we have to do is break through the exterior wall into the cell Passepout is being held in, and get out of town before anyone is the wiser."

"Not an easy trick, if you ask me," Curtis replied. "Don't you think we're going to need a little help?"

"Sure," the master traveler replied. "I know this tavern not too far from here, where sell-swords of good standing and reputation have been known to frequent. I'm sure we'll find some willing assistance there."

The Inn of the Bovine Lad catered to mercenaries and wranglers for hire of all types, and as usual it was packed to the seams with brawling and boisterous sell-swords looking for employment and/or trouble.

Volo scanned the crowd as if looking for someone in particular.

"Who are you looking for?" Shurleen asked.

"A mercenary who is obviously not a local," the master traveler replied. "We can't afford to have our plan given away due to someone's personal loyalties. A newcomer to Baldur's Gate would be best, and I have to find one without appearing too obvious."

"What should we do?" Curtis asked.

"Stand around and try to look tough," Volo replied. Then, looking at Shurleen still clad in the water-stained remnants of her Maztican finery, he changed his mind. "On second thought, wait outside and, I know it's hard, but try to look inconspicuous."

Curtis and Shurleen left, and Volo resumed surveying the crowd. He settled on a likely candidate, a reddish-haired warrior woman dressed in battleworn chain mail with a singularly opportunistic opening in the pectoral region that showed off her ample cleavage. A pair of azure tattoos adorned her arms, seeming almost to glow and move in the smoky tavern's interior. She appeared to he keeping company with a lizard man of some sort who sat across from her at a table for two. As lizard men were not indigenous to the Western Heartlands, Volo figured that they were a good bet.

Volo approached the couple cautiously, hoping to eavesdrop on their conversation, but unfortunately could only make out an occasional growl or snort from the nonhuman member of the pair. Upon closer examination, the master traveler discerned that it was not a lizard man at all but a saurial with a blunted muzzle, green scales, and yellow eyes, with a single fin running down the back of its head.

"Don't just eavesdrop," the warrior woman announced. "Drop in." With that she reached up and grabbed the master traveler by the collar, pulling him down to a place at the table.

"Sorry," the master traveler said.

"What do you want?"

"I'm looking for a pair of mercenaries…" Volo began.

"We're not mercenaries," she replied churlishly. "We're adventurers. What do you want?"

"I need help to rescue a friend," Volo replied.

The saurial snorted again, and Volo detected the distinct aroma of honeysuckle.

"Dragonbait here seems to trust you," she said. "My name is Alias. What can we do for you?"

Quickly and quietly, Volo told her the whole story, from the challenge in Suzail, through the trip to Kara-Tur and Maztica, and right up to

Passepout's incarceration. For some reason he trusted this strange woman and her saurial companion, and he realized that they were his and Passepout's only hope.

Dragonbait growled, and then snorted again.

"Okay," Alias said. "We'll help you. What's the plan?"

Volo and the two newly recruited adventurers left the tavern and rejoined Curtis and Shurleen, who were trying to look inconspicuous.

"We're going to need at least eight horses," Alias said. "Two of the strongest draft horses we can find, and six of the swiftest steeds available. After the break, Dragonbait and I will draw the pursuers after us. My saurial friend here sticks out in a crowd, and we didn't plan on staying around here long, anyway. I know a place we can lose the guards in the mountains, and we'll be home free in no time. You, on the other hand, have to get to Suzail, as soon as possible. This doppelganger conspiracy can endanger the stability of all of the nations of Faerun, and beyond."

The conspirators went off in different directions and rendezvoused at the rear of the prison where Passepout was being held. Alias and Dragonbait brought the horses with them, evidently obtained through a Harper contact.

"I'm pretty sure he would be in this cell," Volo said, pointing to a barred window.

"No problem," Alias replied. "Shurleen, stand around the corner and be the lookout. Give a holler if anyone comes."

Shurloen kissed Curtis on the cheek and left, taking her position just out of sight.

"If Volo is right, we should be able to pull out these bars from the window with a minimal amount of help, which is why I brought these fine specimens," she said, indicating the draft horses, "Bush and Heiser, to help us out."

Volo and Curtis wrapped a rope around the window bars, and handed it back to Alias, who attached it to Bush and Heiser.

"Pull!" she ordered.

They did. Nothing happened.

"Pull!" she repeated.

Once again the horses strained with all their might. At last, something began to give… but instead of just pulling the bars out, the entire wall section collapsed, showering the jailbreakers with ancient mortar dust and pebbles. Instead of a single inconspicuous hole into a lone cell, the entire back cellblock was exposed. This turned out to be quite fortunate as Passepout, as it turned out, was being held in the cell next door to the one that was being seiged. A chunk from the wall to his cell, however, was loosened by the horses' efforts, and with a little extra help from Dragonbait and Curtis, a hole was made that was large enough for the rotund thespian to get through.

The prisoner in the neighboring cell, who had obviously spent a long time in the prison by the length of his hair and beard, also took the opportunity to make his escape.

"Free at last," he cried. "Now I must seek revenge on those who have wrought pain and suffering on myself and my family."

Dragonbait snorted his disapproval.

"It's all right," Passepout explained. "He's an innocent man framed by jealous rivals."

"Yeah, sure," Alias replied sarcastically.

"It's true," the thespian insisted, and then, turning back to his fellow prisoner, added, "Good luck, Edmund."

"Thanks, Passepout," the long-haired prisoner replied, "and to you, too. If you get the chance, look me up. The world hasn't seen the last of me, Count Dantes, by a long shot."

With that the prisoner took off in the direction in which Shurleen was stationed, and disappeared down an alley.

Alias called to the others. "Quickly, you go west, and we'll go north."

Dragonbait snorted, and Alias joined him at Passepout's side.

"My friend here is a paladin," she explained. "Once this crisis has passed, he wants you to turn yourself in and make restitution for the wrongs you have done in the past."

"I will," the rotund thespian replied.

"Swear," she commanded.

"I swear," he replied, "and thank you."

Alias and her saurial friend mounted their steeds and made ready for a gallop.

"Give us a few seconds to draw the pursuers, then make haste for Suzail," she instructed.

Without waiting for further thanks, she and her companion rode off at a gallop.

In a matter of seconds, Shurleen ran back to the group.

"The guards were about to come back here when Alias and Dragonbait rode past," she replied, out of breath from running. "They all took off after them."

"Time's a-wasting," Volo announced.

"1 know," Passepout replied, thankful to be out of the cramped confines of the holding cell, " 'We're burning daylight,' right?"

"Right," the master traveler agreed. "Eastward ho! On to Suzail!"

Quickly mounting their steeds, they headed eastward.

Keeping his horse apace with Volo's, the chubby thespian called to the master traveler, "Well, at least Captain Gehrard won't be held accountable for my escape this time."

"How so?" Volo queried.

"Certain people were so happy that I was to be made an example of that they gave him the day off for bringing me, the dangerous fugitive, in after being at large for so long a time. Gehrard's not such a bad guy, really," Passepout commented, "just a bit obsessed."

They were out of the city and on their way in no time, and not a single member of the city guard pursued them.