The Month of Decay had replaced the Month of Falling Leaves, and the autumn winds of Faerûn had long since faded away. The weather was gradually turning colder, and winter was beginning to show its hand.
Although the Sword Coast, which lay along the Tropic of Cancer, was not yet plunged into the frigid darkness that had already enveloped Neverwinter and even Icewind Dale, it had nevertheless settled into wintertime rhythms.
The Flame Fist squad had arrived at around four in the afternoon, but the skies were no longer bright and cheerful. The clouds had gradually been dyed red by the setting sun. Under the slightly dim light, a figure walked straight toward the Feld Hotel.
The owner of the figure was naturally Zhang Yuan, the Archmage. Since the group was going to spend the night resting in Beregost, Skar had simply given the lads under him some time off, as long as they came back to sleep that night.
After apologetically turning down invitations from the Dwarf Shield Axe Warrior Bard and the Great Swordsman Minsc, Zhang Yuan, who had planned to scout out the enemy alone, unexpectedly ran into Lawrence, that old lecher, at the entrance.
Speaking of which, he and Lawrence were not strangers. The foul-mouthed old lecher and Zhang Yuan, who had read countless erotic books and whose heart held no horse, were evenly matched. Perhaps "birds of a feather flock together" would be more apt.
Lawrence had only ever read stale, dry works about noble ladies' adventures on outings, the mysterious gardens of countesses, and other such clichéd tales. So when someone told him about masterpieces such as Golden Scale, Lamp Grass, and Ali, the stories lingered in his mind for days, leaving him unable to taste anything else.
Whenever they chatted, Lawrence, who only regretted that they had met too late, answered almost every question Zhang Yuan asked. He even provided quite a bit of valuable information—whether it was true was another matter, of course.
Lawrence also spotted the great literary master Zhang. When he waved for Zhang Yuan to come over, Zhang Yuan could hardly pretend he had not seen him. After joining Lawrence's group, he sized up the two companions Lawrence had brought along.
One was a somewhat thin and frail young man of short stature, who took the initiative to greet Zhang Yuan. The other was a tall, sturdier man with a cold expression. After Zhang Yuan offered him a friendly greeting, he merely nodded.
"Let me introduce you. These are two friends I met here in the past. This is Duncan, and this is Mal."
After some pleasantries, the four of them entered the Feld Hotel together. From the outside, the hotel looked unremarkable, but inside it was an entirely different story. Its luxuriousness was in no way inferior to the Elven Song in Baldur's Gate, though it was somewhat smaller and less lively.
They ordered some drinks and sat around a square table. As they watched graceful dancers perform beneath the accompaniment of a seven-stringed lute, they chatted about everything under the sun.
Duncan kept pressing Lawrence for stories about what he had seen in Baldur's Gate. Lawrence had no choice but to fob him off with strange anecdotes and rumors about the Seven Suns Merchant Alliance. It seemed that the old lecher was not as unreliable as he appeared. At the very least, he had some sense of confidentiality.
Mal, meanwhile, was not interested in any of that. Only when someone asked him did he reveal a trace of unease about the situation nearby and concern for his son.
With other matters on his mind, Zhang Yuan exchanged a few perfunctory words before withdrawing from the conversation. Instead, he cast his eyes around and observed the hotel. It was certainly luxurious. Never mind the soft, comfortable carpet beneath their feet—the crimson velvet covering the tabletop alone, bright as pigeon's blood, was worth a poor man's income for an entire week.
Not far away sat several noblewomen dressed in gorgeous gowns and covered in glittering jewelry. They had seated themselves far from everyone else and were quietly listening to a bard sing and play. No one else had the poor taste to approach them, as though everyone tacitly acknowledged the existence of this VIP area.
Finding the bard's skill rather unimpressive, someone could not help but maliciously speculate: Could they be here to keep some pretty boy?
An unexpected little incident suddenly occurred. A vulgar-looking, obese middle-aged man appeared. He wore a golden-yellow coat and a pink cape draped over his back. His bald pate resembled a Mediterranean, while the layers of fat around his waist had rebelliously forced open a slit in his shirt.
Yet this greasy eyesore of a man brazenly took a seat beside the noblewomen. Although the ladies did not pay him any attention, neither did they object.
Clicking his tongue in amazement, Zhang Yuan asked his companions about the oddball. Lawrence and Mal shook their heads one after another, but Duncan laughed.
"You mean that fellow? His name is Aginon. He started out as a down-and-out merchant, so poor that he even had to mortgage his family estate and come here to stay temporarily. Later, somehow, he managed to persuade several members of the merchant guilds to join him in doing business, and he made a comeback. He's quite a figure in Beregost now, and everyone is willing to show him some respect."
Zhang Yuan understood what was going on at once. So Aginon was quite the talent—he had managed to turn a Cloak of Elvenkind into the equivalent of a face card. Zhang Yuan could not help rating the item more highly, and naturally, desiring it even more.
Having made up his mind, Zhang Yuan casually asked Duncan about the several noblewomen. As befitted a friend of an old lecher, this younger lecher knew the details about the ladies at his fingertips.
After some time and several drinks, Zhang Yuan excused himself to use the restroom and temporarily left the table. Instead, he took a turn and went over to a waiter, pulling out a silver coin.
"Lady Garian's husband has some questions about things that have happened at the Feld Hotel recently. Or rather, the knight is very interested in certain matters concerning the merchant who is always pestering his wife."
He pointed toward Lady Garian, the most plump and voluptuous of the women, while handing over the silver coin.
The waiter accepted the coin without a word, then leaned close to Zhang Yuan's ear and lowered his voice. "Go upstairs from here. First room on the left."
Perhaps feeling that he had to earn his silver, he added, "Han Feizi's performance will end in about three-quarters of an hour. He'll return to his room to rest then."
Three-quarters of an hour—that was about forty-five minutes. There was enough time!
When Zhang Yuan returned to his seat, he first asked Duncan where the town's clothing shop was, then excused himself by saying he needed to buy some clothes and left at an unhurried pace.
After leaving the Feld Hotel, he went straight to the clothing shop. Without even bothering to haggle, he bought a pink cape in a style similar to Aginon's, along with a gray outer robe.
His heart ached at the eight silver coins he had spent. He could only treat it as an initial investment. "When you think about it, getting a Cloak of Elvenkind for less than a gold coin is an incredible bargain." After comforting himself, Zhang Yuan finally felt less pained.
Upon returning to the Feld, he put on the new outer robe and showed it off in front of his companions, receiving a round of compliments before continuing to pretend to drink and boast.
After waiting about fifteen minutes, and calculating that the bard's performance was nearly over, he once again used the restroom as an excuse to slip away, leaving behind only the strange looks of the old lecher and the younger lecher.
After wandering around for a while, he reached Aginon's room on the second floor. The room's owner was still downstairs, eagerly accompanying the noblewomen as they listened to the music. It was the perfect opportunity to make some preparations.
Hiding in a corner of the room, Zhang Yuan released the key player in his plan—Shirley!
Shirley was no ordinary ferret. As a magical pet, she was naturally gifted with stealth, hiding, and pickpocketing abilities comparable to those of a rogue. Combined with her small size, she was practically unbeatable at this sort of dirty work.
It was strange, though. How could such a master thief be a magical pet of the lawful alignment... Hmmmmm.
Using the mental link between mage and magical pet, Zhang Yuan conveyed Shirley's next actions through a combination of gestures and drawings. Everything was ready. All that remained was for the protagonist to take the stage—the show was about to begin.
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