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The Zhentarim must hate him, that was all that he could think when he tried to blow on his hands who felt colder than fucking Cania. Rugan drew his cloak a bit tighter around him, trying to trap more of his own body heat. It was supposed to be a special assignment, one reached out because of his faith. Maybe faith was a big word, he prayed to Bane but he'd never been much of a pious man. Figured it couldn't harm him to throw a good word in for himself with the Black Hand. It'd been a part of the Zhentarim before, their bounds fragile but still around. It had been a delivery to Mulmaster, to be delivered to the Zhentarim there. An order of illegal arm's, nothing out of the order. There had been one little chest that was for a different delivery, for the Black Lord's Altar. The reason why he had been included.
The sound of rowdy drunks, a mix of bawdy sounds and chatter mixed when he entered The Sleepy Serpent. The smell of ale mixed with sweat, the floor sticky with spilled alcohol. The instructions for the special delivery had been vague, just to get a room here and to wait for further instructions.
"A mug of ale, please lass," he ordered at the bar. He supposed he could linger here a bit longer. Baldur's Gate almost seemed like paradise in comparison to Mulmaster, the undercurrent of crime permeating more throughout the streets, he kind of liked it here. He took a sip of his ale, closing his eyes for just a blink. When he opened his eyes, a red-haired woman had appeared next to him. By Bane, he still had his charm and good looks as well.
"Gods, you're a sight for sore eyes, lass." The woman had only frowned, her green eyes looking at him almost confused. She wore a heavy cloak, probably lined with fur that was held together with the pins of two black hand. Ofcourse, a Banite.
"I presume that you're Rugan?"Her voice was precise, not warm or soft like her face would indicate. Those large green eyes, a cute button nose and lips that were made for kissing, Bane had been lucky.
"The one and only. And you're my instructions?" The woman just looked at him, a cold stare.
"I am, we'll meet tomorrow at High Noon in the building on the left. Don't be late." A threat was buried underneath there, a threat he believed. The Banites here had a reputation.
"I'll be giving a sermon at the shrine below if you want. Will be a while since you're from Baldur's Gate?" Just his luck, a cleric of Bane. He nodded and stood up after he emptied the mug of ale.
"Can I at least get a name?" he asked.
"Cassandra," she replied before she pushed her way through the crowd and went in a door that revealed a hallway. Other people started to follow her, he sighed and followed.
The cold did nothing about the scent of the docks of Mulmaster. The scent of rotten fish and shit was one of the grossest things that he had ever smelled, it made the Gray Harbour smell like a courtesans ass. The building that she had mentioned looked like it had seen its best days. The windows were boarded up, but in comparison the lock on the door looked newer. He shouldn't have been surprised. The door was unlocked, she was already there. There was only some dim light, some sunshine that made it through the windows and a torch flickering down the hallway. The little chest in his arms as he made his way through, the freezing cold making his breath appear before him. Cassandra was standing in the room, stone crumbling from the wall. A table and some chairs in the middle of the room, nothing else. A Black Hand drawn on the wall. She stood still like a statue, unnerved by the cold. The only thing betraying her human nature was that he could see her breath in the air as well. There were robes under her cloak, black ones like he expected. By the Black Hand, she was beautiful but she looked as frosty as Auril.
"This is the delivery?" Blunt, not a word wasted with that one. Fucking just his luck that she was as cold as the weather here.
"Yes, sealed and unopened," he said as he set it down on the table. There was still distrust in her eyes as she moved closer to open it up. The key she had turned the chest open but there was only a note in the chest. He groaned, could have sent by messenger. No, he had to freeze his balls of in Mulmaster because of a note. Even Cassandra seemed surprised as she opened the note. Her eyes widening when she read the content.
The door of the room was pushed shut with a loud bang, faintly being illuminated by something.
"NO!" she yelled as she ran for the door, trying to open the thing. She seemed unnerved, throwing herself against the door. But when she turned to him, she looked like control in a fur cloak.
"I presume since you're a Zhent that you can open this door?" He could be humble, say that he wasn't that great, but that would be a boldfaced lie.
"Only because you ask so nicely, sweetheart." A scowl appeared on her face, the most emotion she had shown. He had sauntered over, gotten his thieves tools out and had started to lockpick. Which didn't work. Since this wasn't just a locked door, it was an arcane lock.
"This is an arcane lock," he said rather sheepishly, which made her groan. She started to pace around, muttering to herself. He leaned back to the door, the cool and calculated facade vanishing with every step taken.
"Has this to do with that little note?" Her face had snapped to his, like she almost had forgotten that he was there as well. The cold facade put back like a quick mask.
"Yes."
"Well, my crew will be here in no time so they'll bust us out of here."
Two hours later, there was still no sign of anyone coming to their aid. The cold seemed to be more severe any minute that went by, getting a hold of his bones. He had talked, talked her ear off to fill the silence between them. Told her about his old man, his crew in Baldur's Gate, how he had gotten in thieving, told her about Baldur's Gate. She had been sitting there like a statue, only the blinking of her eyes giving away that she was an actual person rather than being carved from stone.
"What did you say about people busting you out?" she had asked in a voice so blunt that it was almost offensive.
"Didn't see anyone coming for you," he replied. She had looked away at that. He wanted to know why he was stuck in this prison of frost with her, had he pissed Bane off that much?
"They won't," she answered. It looked like the lass could talk at last.
Another four hours passed by. He was out of things to fill the silence with or he would have to resort to bedtales. He didn't know if that was something he should talk about with a cleric so he held his mouth shut. She had used some magic to produce another flame on the last torch in the room, tried to light the chest on fire. Obviously it had been heat resistant. Just his luck.
"Who did you piss off for this?" She sighed, finally opening her mouth again.
"There was this task I wanted, it was promised to someone but I talked my way into getting it. Other person is pissed." She looked away again. Conversation closed again.
When it had been another two hours, he thought he would go insane. The cold was seeping into him like slow venom, had he ever felt warm before? Well, he couldn't remember it now. And Cassandra just sat there like a statue, seemingly unbothered by it all. Until he saw just the smallest shiver breaking through her body.
"I am sorry," she said, breaking the endless silence.
"You shouldn't have been involved in this." Her face looked almost in pain when she said it. Like it was the first time she ever apologized to anyone. Was the Bane of it all.
"You know, if you want to make it up to me, there's something you could do." She didn't reply but she did continue to look at him, that was some progress.
"One, you can come sit next to me, might make one side not so freezing and two, talk because I'm bored as hell." She raised up from the chair to sit next to him on the floor, her shoulder against his. More like cloak to cloak but that was besides the point.
"Not a lot to say, grew up here. Mother is a whore and father is a thief. Grew up poor like so many here," she said. Well, at least it was something.
"So how did you become a cleric of Bane?"
The next hours were filled with her talking about her faith and devotion. He never had liked overly religious types, but it was nice to hear her talk about it. More intense than he had ever felt, but that was her thing. The cold became worse, the torch about their head almost flickering with the threat of the final light.
"It's so cold," she said violently shivering next to him. He made a sharp inhale, there was one thing that they could do.
"Lass, don't take this the wrong way but there's something we could try." Her head snapped to him faster than he expected, her lips turning slightly purple.
"We could use each others body heat."
"What?"
"To be to the point, strip down to our undergarments and heat each other up with our cloaks on the outside." Her face turned a bright red, making the green in her eyes stand out even more.
"How will that work?"
"Body heat." She sighed, but he didn't know if it was her becoming insane by the cold as he saw her messing with her robes underneath the cloak. He started fiddling with his shirt as well, being careful to try and keep his cloak on while he did it. Removed his boots to get his pants of and put them back on. She just looked at him with those big eyes. Maybe he was getting mad as well.
"How?" He slipped the front of his cloak open, took her arms and pulled her closer. He lead her on his lap, the warmth of her back tearing through him. She adjusted her cloak so it was laid out in front of her. An awkward silence followed.
To make things worse, a few minutes later the light went out and there was only the darkness. Only darkness and an almost naked Banite on his lap.
"Didn't think it would go like this." She didn't respond, just shifted a bit nervously. Minutes felt like hours as he became so aware of how her muscles shifted against his chest or how soft her side felt. The faint smell of incense in her hair mixed with something else he didn't recognize. As he was wondering if Bane would smite him down if he tried to put a move on, he heard something in the hallway.
"Rugan, are you fucking that cleric in there or what is going on?" Zarys her voice traveled through the air, nothing had ever sounded as sweet.
"No you fecking idiot, someone put an arcane lock on this bloody door. Get us out of here." He was grateful that Cassandra couldn't see his own face turning red. Could probably feel something come to life. Bane would kill him. A laugh from the other side of the door.
"Ah for fuck's sake, always something with you. There was a mage in the bar, let me get him." He felt her moving away, the cold retreating right back to where her body had been and had heard her moving around for her robes.
"This. I mean. Nothing happened," she said. He started to feel where his clothing was, it was even colder now when he put it on. The door lit up in a faint blue light, the first thing he could see was her storming out the door. Zarys only stuck her head in, torch in hand.
"You never can keep it in your pants, can ya?"