Chapter Text
The tavern was a rowdy place, beginning to fill with patrons as the sun started to dip below the horizon. From wealthy merchants leaving their shops, to blood-soaked mercenaries back from a job, the Dancing Manticore attracted all types. Which made it the perfect place for those seeking information.
As the gentle pinks of a sunset began to swirl in the evening sky, a woman entered the Dancing Manticore, a hood concealing her features. She took a seat at the bar, greeting the barkeep with a nod. Old Sal would know why she was there. Sal glanced at her briefly, his features betraying nothing. Then, with a nod in return, he surreptitiously jerked a thumb over his shoulder. Wordlessly, the woman stood, then moved to take a seat a table in the back of the tavern.
Her contact was waiting for her there. A greasy looking human, with long, stringy brown hair, and facial hair that refused to grow in anything other than scraggly patches. He was picking between his teeth with a dagger, his muddy boots resting on the table in front of him. His beady eyes watched the woman approach. He took his feet off the table and leaned forward eagerly when she sat down across from him.
"Ah, so you's the one who's been contactin' me," he rasped.
The hooded figure ever so slightly inclined her head.
"What'll I call you's?"
"You may call me Tav."
"Not everyday a hero of Baldur's Gate comes lookin' for one of my kind of people, tell you that, Tav. Especially not askin' what you's was askin'." The man leered across the table, gesturing at her with his dagger. "What's a nice girl like you, a hero," he practically spat the word, " doin' looking for some nasty book for?"
"My reasons are my own," Tav said calmly. "Do you have it?"
"Mmmmmmm... no."
"What?" Tav said. "Your instructions were clear--"
"Here's the thing, love," the man sneered. "I started lookin' into your little quest. So yeah, I know where to find your book. But then some nice folks started talkin' to me, and, shall we say, incentivized me to cease workin' for you's."
Tav suddenly became very alert. The man's grip on his dagger had become less playful, more menacing. Her ears prickled, her heightened sense of awareness noticing that the once raucous atmosphere of the tavern around her had gone quiet. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a few patrons beginning to rise, hands on weapons. Her hand began to drift to the dagger at her belt, hopefully concealed by her cloak.
The man across from her noticed the subtle movement. He flashed her a wicked grin, then flicked his knife towards her in a sharp thrust. She stood, knocking back her chair and parrying his knife with her own.
Unfortunately, as she stood, she stumbled back into the waiting grasp of two Tiefling mercenaries. One grabbed her knife hand while the other held her shoulders and other arm in an iron grip. In a moment she was disarmed and grappled. She struggled against her captor, but in vain.
"Now, I was just paid to stop you's," the man said, striding forward until his knife was in her face. "But I wasn't told what to do with you's. I know some people's who'd be very interested to get ahold of one of the Saviors of Baldur's Gate."
"How about two saviors of Baldur's Gate?"
The man spun at the unexpected voice. Behind him, leaning against the wall, was a pale elf casually inspecting a wickedly curved sword in his hand. His cloak was thrown back, revealing a handsome face and a head of white curls. But his teasing voice was at odds with the iron in his gaze, and the firelight reflected the red in his eyes.
"Now, I believe the lady asked you a question," he drawled, striding forward. "Seems rather impolite of you not to answer."
The man's eye's flicked from the elf's blade back to Tav, and back. "Bold words from one who's lady friend is currently in my power."
The elf rolled his eyes. "Oh please. She's being nice. Now, be a dear and tell us where that tome is?"
The man licked his lips nervously, looking back and forth between Tav, still held in the mercenary's grasp, and the slowly advancing elf. Suddenly, he made a slash at Tav's unprotected throat with his dagger.
In the same instant, Tav threw her whole weight again the tiefling holding her, using his grip as an anchor as she connected with his blade in a sweeping disarming roundhouse kick. The man stumbled back. Instantly, the tavern became alive as other bought mercenaries sprang to their feet, jumping in the fray. Tav used her momentum from the kick to spin around further, hooking her leg around the Tiefling's, and throwing them both to the ground. Startled, his grasp on her broke, and she rolled out of his grip. Pulling a dagger out of her boot, she stood, narrowly dodging a punch from one man and a thrown dagger from another. She got in a few good cuts with her blade, dropping one man, before dodging a hair too slow and taking an axe blow across her arm.
She gasped in pain, stumbling on the mess of strewn furniture. The tall half orc loomed above her, and brandished his axe for another blow. He swung--
--only for his axe to be met with a ringing of steel.
"Hello darling!" Astarion said, standing before her, blocking the blow with his sword. "And here you thought today was going to be boring."
Tav grinned as shoved off her attacker. She put her back to his, while pulling an extra dagger from his belt.
"Ooh, hands on my belt already, darling?" he flirted. "Careful, we've still got work to do."
"Don't let that man get away!" Tav said, dispatching another attacker.
"I've already given Sal the signal to bar the doors," Astarion said, sending a dwarven woman crashing into a table. "You worry too much, dearest, just enjoy the moment."
Tav laughed. Together, they made quick work of the remainder of the hired thugs. Tav glanced around, looking for the last place she had seen the man she hired. There! She ran to him, throwing aside the ruined table he was attempting to hide under. She grabbed the front of his armor, hauling him up. Astarion grabbed his arms, pinning them to his back. Tav reached forward and forced him to meet her gaze.
"Now," she said, lacing her words with arcane charisma. "Tell me where the book is."
Staring into her eyes, she say his muscles relax. His expression suddenly calmed, and he looked at her with a friendly gaze.
"34 Amber Way, in an old mansion," he said. "The place used to be owned by some elven family, with an impressive collection of arcane tomes. They left town over a century ago, and the place fell into despair. Stuff's still there, though, and the whole place is magically protected against breaking and entering. Good chance your book is still in the library."
"See, was that so hard?" Astarion said. "Honestly, all-- ouch, what the--?"
Astarion dropped the man suddenly. Flames had begun to lick at the man's body, seeming to consume him from the inside.
"No, no no!" the man screamed. "It wasn't my fault! I tried!"
His screams were to no avail. The flames consumed him in an instant, and his body crumbled into ash on the tavern floor.
Tav and Astatrion just stared at the pile of ash for a moment, stunned.
"Well!" Astarion said. "That was... unexpected. Not your doing, I take it?"
"Certainly not," said Tav, frowning. "I get the feeling someone didn't want us getting that piece of information.
Astarion gently kicked the pile of ash, watching as it spiraled in the air before settling once more. Then he looked at Tav, and seemed to notice the gash on her arm for the first time.
"You're hurt!" he cried, gently taking her arm and inspecting the wound.
"It's not that bad," Tav said. "I've had worse."
Astarion looked at her, and she met his gaze. Even after all this time, she was still surprised at the depth of tenderness that lay in his eyes.
"I know that," he said softly. "But I would prefer if your blood was to stay inside your body."
Tav quirked an eyebrow at that.
Astarion laughed. "Or at least only removed by me. C'mon darling, let's get you cleaned up."