Disclaimer: Wizards of the Coast can have Artemis and the rest back when I say so. Not before.

Brief note: Set during Streams of Silver.

Artemis Entreri looked about at his companions as he took the second watch of the night.

The wizard, Sydney, had cocooned herself in her travel blanket as close to the fire as she could get without burning holes in her coverlet. She also snored with the regularity and volume of a carpenter's heavy rasp.

Catti-Brie, the hostage the assassin hoped to use against Regis's friends, had finally settled down from tossing and turning and seemed to be sleeping soundly now. Entreri supposed that it was fortunate for him that she did not lie closer to the fire, else she would have rolled into it with her thrashings. It would have soured the assassin's mood considerably if he had to waste a healing potion on her to ensure her good condition as a bargaining piece.

Jierdan, still in his chainmail armor, slept quietly just within the light of the campfire. He had not moved all night save for the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing. Somewhere out in the darkness under the trees prowled the golem, Bok. Entreri was sure that the golem was Sydney's master's insurance against treachery on the assassin's part, possibly to keep tabs on the guardsman and apprentice wizard as well.

Entreri looked around to make sure that the golem was still out looking for some hapless monster to smash to pieces and silently pulled a small, leather bound parcel from his gear. Now would be a good time to hone my knife skills, he thought. He extracted a chapbook sized block of dense ebony wood and tested the keen edges of the small plain penknife and swivel knife that also lay in the kit. With another quick glance to make sure everyone else was still asleep, Entreri took the tiny blade to the lightly sanded surface of the wood and carefully began to chip at it.

Slowly, he delicately cut lines and started to hollow out sections of the block's surface. Other sections, the assassin painstakingly crosshatched and textured the wood, creating varying degrees of shading. He fell into a rhythm with each small motion and managed to focus his attention on the carving in front of him while remaining alert to any sound out of place in the remote wilderness.

Entreri came out of his near trance and looked at his handiwork. Inked and pressed to paper, it would be a stark picture of the Crags, one of them letting steam off into the distance. The assassin felt a warm glow of satisfaction as he regarded his woodcut and debated surreptitiously slipping it into the next printer's shop he came across.

Loud crashing noises and the snapping and splintering of branches prompted Entreri to hurriedly wrap his carving materials in their leather carrier and shove the parcel back into his carry sack. The lightening eastern sky told him that it was near dawn. The assassin schooled his features into cold disdain as Bok lumbered into view.

It would never do for Artemis Entreri to let his foes know what he could do with a knife and some patience.

Author's note: This probably seems somewhat out of character for Entreri as "soulless killing machine," but he can't stare at nothing for those long night watches now can he? This was written in response to Linndechir's request for Entreri with a hobby of some kind. I hope it is up to par :)