Anthology: Once Around the Realms

"We men of the road must stick together. Now where is your great performance scheduled? As I will only be in town for a few days, I hope I will be able to catch it."

"Well, you see, O great and wonderful savior of the only son of Catinflas and Idle, my exact, uh… arrangements have yet to be solidified, and I had hopes of working out some sort of arrangement in town until several possible, uh… opportunities become more solidified."

"I see," said Volo, with just enough insight to make the down-on-his-luck thespian a bit uneasy.

"It's not like that," Passepout insisted. "I'm many things but not a thief, as those graying Purple Dragons at the gate accused. Times are hard, and an actor's life is not always an easy one. Even an accomplished thespian such as myself is entitled to a few dry spells. I had always heard that Suzail was ripe for dramatic harvesting, and if not here, well, then somewhere else."

"But more to the matter at hand," interrupted Volo, "what about tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"Yes, tonight. According to the post at the gate, a curfew is in effect. What will you do for tonight? There are several establishments I can recommend, if you would tell me your price range."

"Well, you know how an actor's life is. The journey here, roadside prices, and my appetite and all,"' offered Passepout, patting his ample belly, "have left me slightly deficient of means, if you know what I mean."

"You're broke."

"Exactly."

"Suzail is no place to be a penniless itinerant. There are laws against it and more than a few civil bodies ready to enforce them. As I saved you from the Purple Dragons' jaws at the gate, I feel I am obligated to continue in my role as your protector, at least for the time being."

Volo tossed the indigent entertainer one of his bags, the heaviest one, almost bowling over the unsuspecting fellow, who seemed to have lost a bit of his legendary acrobatic prowess through the acquisition of a few extra pounds of fleshly body cushioning. Passepout recovered, with a questioning look, but before he could voice his interrogative Volo cut him off.

"At the gate I identified you as my bond servant, and for the duration of my stay here in Suzail so shall you be. This will, of course, entitle you to share in my room and board, of course."

"Oh, thank you, O wonderful and good sir. I am in your debt," insisted the grateful, relieved Passepout.

"Think nothing of it. My accommodations are all comped."

"Comped?"

"Complimentary. Such is the advantage of being a world-famous author-and the most famous traveler in all of the Realms, if I do say so myself. My favors to you have cost me naught, and for them I now have an extra set of shoulders to carry my packs, and an eager ear to bend during my stay. For, you see, even more than traveling, I enjoy the sound of my own voice, and people sometimes look askance at you if you are talking to yourself, if you know what I mean. Think nothing of it."

"Your bond servant so shall I be for as long as you require. I owe you my freedom, and my board, and until such time as the debt is repaid, so shall it be."

"Only if you insist."

"And I do. Besides, maybe the accommodations won't cost you anything, but that doesn't change the fact that you were willing to risk two gold pieces in exchange for my release."

"No risk."

"But I saw you flip the coin with the guard."

"You did."

"So?"

Volo tossed the confused Passepout the coin, and said, "Flip it, and call it."

Passepout flipped, and called, "Kings."

The coin came up kings.

"Again," Volo insisted.

Again Passepout flipped the coin, this time calling "Dragons."

It came up dragons.

Volo snatched the coin from the befuddled Passepout's palm and then handed it back to him.

"Examine the faces of this lucky coin," he instructed.

Passepout looked down, and low, the faces were blank, with neither a king nor a dragon evident on the golden surface.

Volo snatched back the coin again and put it in his pouch.

"See? Think nothing of it," he said, picking up the pace as they strolled along the Promenade.

"How did you do that?" asked the now-eager-to-please bond servant.

"I am also the author of Volo's Guide to All Things Magical."

"Wonderful."

"Not to mention the most famous traveler in all of the Realms."

"Of course."

"But we must hurry. The dark will soon be upon us, and the warmth of a good tavern beckons. Our destination lies just a few doors down."

AT THE DRAGON'S JAWS INN or as a matter of pride a bet is made

The Dragon's Jaws Inn, located on the Promenade was, as usual, bursting to the seams with patrons out for an evening frolic. Under the steady eye of bartender Milo Dudley, drinks were being served, rooms reserved, and schedules posted for the evening's activities of ax throwing and halfling tossing. Milo ran a tight ship and was at least fifty percent of the reason for the inn's success. No fight went longer than its repair bill outweighed its entertainment value, no paying customer was turned away for want of accommodation nor discouraged from returning by any lapse in satisfaction or quality. Before a mug was empty, Milo was at hand with a refill. Before a patron had passed out from overindulgence, Milo had already arranged a spot to sleep it off, and before an unwanted indiscretion had taken place, Milo was already there to discourage any unwanted advances. Innkeeper, bartender, referee, and bouncer, Milo always had his dwarfish hands full… and enjoyed every minute of it.

The other fifty percent of the tavern's success was undoubtedly the work of the actual proprietor, Gnorm the gnome. A former adventurer who had once left town with a bunch of drunken dwarves in search of a dragon's hoard to plunder, he returned four years later with enough booty to finance the inn for nigh unto a few hundred years, and support his own hobbies and habits as well. Gnorm never did any actual work he left that up to Milo, the less than adventurous brother-who-stayed-behind of one of Gnorm's dwarven colleagues who never made it back from the dragon's den that was the source of Gnorm's prosperity. Instead Gnorm functioned as a sort of goodwill ambassador, glad-hander, and life of the party for the inn. It was entirely possible that casual patrons might be unaware that this jovial fellow for whom they had just bought a drink was actually the proprietor of the establishment, and the retired gnome liked to keep it that way.

To employees and patrons alike, he was just good old Gnorm.

Volo and Passepout had no sooner approached the threshold of the establishment when the door was thrown open for them by the ever-on-the-ball Milo, who bestowed upon them his enthusiastic greetings.

"Oh, Master Volo! You have returned to once again honor our establishment with your presence. Now, before you undo the drawstrings on your purse, I must warn you that your money will do you no good here. You are a guest of the house and entitled to any bounty it can provide," gushed the majordomo dwarf. "Mindy! Sara! Prepare a room upstairs for Master Volo and his, uh… "

"Companion?" Passepout offered.

"Bond servant," Volo instructed.

"… and his bond servant, of course, and make sure the furniture's sturdy. There's nothing half-ling about this boy, no sirree," he continued with a slight chuckle, as if sharing some secret joke. "And Wolfgang, set up a new table over in Molly's area. I remember she was always your favorite waitress, and its location will give you a perfect view of the evening's competition without necessarily placing you in the line of fire. After all, no one enjoys the impact of a misfired halfling during their dinner."

"As always, you amaze me, Milo," Volo offered. He handed his packs to the waiting arms of one of the porters who would carry them to the bed chamber that had moments ago been reserved for them. "How do you do it?"