Raegar's head throbbed, and immediately he regretted yelling. "Don't just stand there. Some magic lingers about, and we don't need to find out its meaning. We need to make haste to get to the inn before it's too late." Damlath sped away. Raegar could barely spot him by the moonlight breaking through the trees. Too late for what? he wondered, as he urged the mare forward. Still spooked, the horse was only too happy to break into a canter. Raegar groaned then gritted his teeth against the headache and rode swiftly to catch up to the mage despite his increasing speed. As the wary horse settled in next to Damlath, Raegar said, "Wizard, you've told me next to nothing in the last tenday. For someone dedicated to sharing knowledge, you're not doing very well, friend." He smiled, trying to break his partner's reserve with the joke. Damlath looked at him and scowled. "I liked you better when you chose to be silent for most of a mission." Raegar raised his eyebrows but let the insult pass. "Where across the Nine Hells have you taken us? And what's the rush? You wasted all afternoon and evening at the Font of Knowledge and insisted I meet you at Fetlock Court instead of the library." Damlath's explanation was monotonal, as if he could hardly be bothered to explain himself. "Time in research is never wasted. We seek to not miss a particular traveler on the road. We've just left the ruins of Rassalantar's Keep, the portal between it and Waterdeep sat unused for more than a century. I doubt even the Blackstaff knows of its existence. We're approaching the hamlet of Rassalantar, and we have business at the Sleeping Dragon.
After that, we can rest at a manor east of the village overnight. A friend of mine owns Stagsmere and insists someone check on it before winter. If we get separated, it's nine miles east of Rassalantar's pond. Just follow the creek, rather than the road, and turn off when you see the Stagstone. The manor's a mile to the northeast with a trail that's a bit overgrown." As Damlath fell silent, they broke from the trees and onto a muddy trail between two farms. The nearly full moon and the Tears of Selune behind it lit a downward slope and the tiny little cluster of buildings and farms around a pond. Raegar enjoyed the crystal clear night sky and all the stars not easily visible from inside Waterdeep's walls. He'd been through Rassalantar before, but not in a while. Raegar wondered how many others knew of that portal that saved them nearly two days of hard travel. A short while later, Raegar slowed his horse to a trot when they crossed a small wooden bridge over the eastern edge of the pond. He dismounted, loosened the saddle's girth, and walked the mare cool before leaving her to drink and rest. Meanwhile, Damlath only had to step off his carpet, roll it up, and slide it inside his cloak's magical pockets.
Damlath said in a loud whisper, "We're to meet someone who wishes to remain anonymous. You keep an eye out and distract anyone who takes any notice of my meeting." Raegar nodded, and left his mare to graze.
The two men moved toward the inn's door. Damlath's eyes seemed blank and lifeless, and Raegar wondered why someone nicknamed the Laughing Mage no longer laughed. In accord to their usual methods, Raegar turned off and walked around the inn, both to examine points where he could make a quick exit and to avoid any surprises from additional guards. He noted useful egresses such as wide windows on every level.
He also noticed chimneys on both the eastern and western walls, the former chimney wafting cooking smells aloft. Complete with the usual stables and privies, the Sleeping Dragon Inn seemed comfortably normal, despite a local legend that a gold dragon hid among the barmaids to defend the inn and its patrons. Raegar finished his circuit and retrieved his horse. He walked the mare over to the rail across the road from the inn and lashed her reins to it. Raegar crossed the road again and approached the door, but yells behind it and approaching fast suggested he step back. The door slammed open in his direction, followed immediately by a howling drunk and the barkeep shoving him outward and into the mud. "Guard or no Guard, Anthan, ye're an ugly drunkard and ye're disturbing me inn. This ain't no Dock Ward dive, after all. Now go sleep it off and ye can fix things with me in the morning." The man was older and hardly rose to Raegar's shoulder, but the muscle on his exposed arms and the stern look on his face made Raegar think twice about what tactics he'd try in the inn that night. The innkeeper turned to reenter and noticed Raegar standing aside in the shadow. He smiled, nodded, and gestured his newest patron toward the open door. Raegar returned the smile and said, "Well, I suppose there's an open seat within for me, then." "To be sure, lad, to be sure." The man chuckled and offered a hand in friendship. "Welcome to the Sleeping Dragon. Ye can call me Spider, if all ye bring to my place is a smile and some coins. Ye've seen what happens to those what cause trouble, eh?" "I'll be on my best behavior, then, Spider. My stomach and seat demand I stop for a moment and a meal." Raegar chatted amicably with the innkeeper as he entered the inn. "Oh, where are my manners? I am Terrol, late of Waterdeep, and I am a courier on way to Longsaddle one last time for my masters before Auril spreads her snowy tresses over the North." When he stepped past the threshold, the rogue took in the entire room in a glance before crossing to the bar. The door entered the taproom in its southeast corner to not dilute the heat from the fireplace dominating the western wall at the far side of the room. The bar ran half the length of the northern wall, and men sat hunched over their beer on the high stools there. The rogue noted with surprise the slim mirror that spanned the length of the wall behind the bar-a rare luxury even for Waterdeep; let alone a tiny backwater such as this. Still, it made his job easier to watch Damlath and his companions without being noticed. Immediately on Raegar's right was an archway leading into the kitchen, and Raegar became famished once he smelled what cooked therein. The rest of the eastern wall held cloak pegs and crates, barrels, and various packs beneath the stairs that led to the rooms on the next level up. Raegar turned to Spider as the man slipped behind the bar, and asked, "Could I trouble you for a bowl of that boar stew I smell and a tankard of your best?" Sitting at the end of the bar to keep the entire room in sight, Raegar placed a few coins on the counter. Spider disappeared into the kitchen with the coins. Very few patrons took note of his entrance, so apparently the previous upset was not remarkable. Raegar returned to scanning the place. The center of the room held a handful of round tables with chairs and the southern wall was lined with nine long tables with benches. The inn wasn't busy, the tables still having ample room for more patrons, and Raegar finally spotted Damlath at one of two round tables sequestered into the corner between the bar's end and the hearth. He sat with a couple and all three kept their hoods drawn. Why do mages think keeping cloak hoods up indoors will do anything but draw more attention to them? Raegar thought. Despite that error, Damlath's companions did a good job of avoiding attention, their clothing well-worn and dirty to defray interest from thieves or eavesdroppers.
To the casual eye, they seemed nothing more than late-season travelers heading home from or to Waterdeep before winter. From his viewpoint, Raegar could only see the profile and left arm of the brown-cloaked companion, and he squinted to be sure he saw correctly. Between her half-hidden features and the shape and length of her hand, Raegar guessed she was a female elf with dark blond hair. The blue-garbed man to her right was good at subterfuge. He stabbed his left hand onto the table as if to punctuate a point. To any other than a trained thief, the wand in the sleeve beneath that hand was unnoticeable. Raegar's eyes widened as he noticed a light blue glow and sparkles around the wand, which were quickly covered as the man brought his arm to rest back on the table. All Raegar knew of the man was that he carried a mage's wand, wore expensive rings, and his pristine hands didn't look like they'd been subjected to work beyond magecraft. What surprised him more was the tingling he felt on his back-where he'd strapped the Diamondblade. It had been tingling and glowing like a blue ember all day, but the sparks seemed to be growing in intensity. Luckily, while he could feel his sword reacting to something again, no one else could see the sparks beneath his heavy cloak. Raegar realized he'd been used. Damlath's plan did nothing more than draw trouble to him like a moth to the flame.
CHAPTER EIGHT
28 Uktar, the Year of Lightning Storms (1374 DR)
"I am going to kill that mage…" Twice in one day, Raegar had been made a stalking horse to test out certain magic-while not a wizard, Raegar understood that the sword reacted to something else nearby, and he guessed it was that wand. Worse yet, since Raegar hadn't been informed that this might happen, he'd chosen a disguise that would not allow him to easily explain away any magic. In fact, his chosen role even prevented him from slipping away and getting the sword off of him before something else happened. Spider's heavy steps belied his short stature but were a testament to his strength. Raegar turned to him, his face hardly betraying any worry he felt, as Spider approached with a large tankard. "This won't do. Ye've got to take a table for proper room to eat." Spider led him to the small round table with chairs for three and obviously recently vacated by one or two patrons. "Now, try this, young sir Terrol, and it'll warm ye to yer boots." The innkeeper slammed the mug down while a lissome green-eyed barmaid slid a steaming bowl of stew and a warm handloaf of dark bread toward him as well. Raegar drank the lukewarm porter and raised his eyebrows. The porter was slightly nutty with a pleasant bite in its aftertaste. "Excellent, goodsir Spider. What do you call this hearty brew?" Raegar kept his tone light and in keeping with his disguise-he had combed his beard and oiled his hair, and he wore his richer leathers and a well-made cloak in his guise as a well-to-do courier, the House Lanngolyn badge as his cloak clasp. The barmaid brushed up against him suggestively, and Raegar mentally noted that she was after his attentions more than his coin purse. "Ryssa, let the man alone a moment to eat, for Tyr's sake!" Spider chastised his young barmaid, who pouted then moved along with a pewter pitcher to refill wine glasses around the room. Spider wiped down the bar, and said, "That be me own brew-Sleeping Dragon Dark-from the local barley and oats. Won't get that in Waterdeep, no sir. Well, enjoy, and be sure to tell the Lords Lanngolyn of our hospitality, sir." Raegar nodded and tucked into his bowl of stew, careful not to meet the eyes of a few whose attentions fell on his rich cloak or the words of the innkeeper.
Inside, he argued with himself: Curse that wizard. He still hasn't explained about the blade or this morning's incident, and it feels like he's set up this encounter as another test. It'd almost be better if I just left, but that would draw attention if I go too abruptly.
It'd be justice though, to leave Damlath out on a limb unknowingly as he's done to me twice now. Raegar fumed inside but his face and body language were the measure of calm and contentment as he finished the stew and idly sipped at his drink. He began taking in the company around him. Most of those seated at the bar were local laborers, the mud of the fields still on their boots and clothes. One long table and its nearest round table were dominated by fighting men, their tabards and armor noting them as the local Guard contingent that the Lords of Waterdeep kept patrolling on the roads north to and from Amphail.
Still, if trouble came up, those eleven men could be a problem. Two tables away sat a small party of six-traders from the looks of it, all tired from days on the trade road and praying to make it to Waterdeep before season's end. Other locals took up only two other tables, but the farthest two long tables and the round tables closest to the fireplace were suspiciously empty. Raegar winked at Ryssa when she passed back by him, and she resisted only a token amount when he swept her into his lap. After a playful kiss to dismiss suspicion, Raegar whispered to her. "Why are the best seats in the house empty? Seems odd, especially with winter's chill starting to creep in." The raven-haired woman's eyes widened then lowered. She turned in his lap slowly, and playfully took a swig from his tankard. Raegar guessed she might have been a thief at one time as well, given how smoothly she blended her passing whispers with her actions. "Spider's expecting a group of travelers here some time tonight, coming back from Longsaddle on the Long Road-a count and his party, all from Tethyr, I'm told.
They stayed here about five tendays back on their way north, and a scout arrived at dusk to ask that rooms be readied for their arrival.
Now, did you need a room readied, sir?" By that time, she had risen from his lap and straightened her dress, her eyes always locked on his. Ryssa's clear desire made Raegar even more irritated with Damlath's plans. "Alas, no. I'm to be east of here by highmoon, no matter what. As much as I might wish it, I must away after my meal to Stagsmere." Raegar tried to rekindle hope for both of them. "Mayhaps my errand there will be short, so I might return, should there still be a room for me." Ryssa's eyes confirmed as much but she said, "Wait a breath-Stagsmere? Why'd you want to go there? That place has been abandoned for years. Only things out there now are rabbits and ghosts." "Not my place to question my duties, I'm afraid. I've already said too much, but for your discretions, fair Ryssa." Raegar placed three silvers into her fingers as he reached out and put his hands over hers on the tankard. The girl smiled as she slipped the coins into her pocket. Raegar stood up and made his plans clear to Damlath by sighing loudly and exclaiming, "Innkeeper! That was the finest meal to be had in the North outside of Sea Ward! I thank you and your good serving girl for it." He moved toward the bar, noticing that all eyes were on him, including Damlath's. As he made a show of counting out coin for the meal, he watched in the mirror as Damlath and his companion shook both hands together. Disguised by this motion, the blue-garbed mage slipped the sparkling wand into Damlath's sleeve while he in turn slid a scroll into the man's other sleeve. Once that transaction was complete, all three stood and made to leave as well.
Raegar paid Spider a bit more than required, if only to keep his memory sharp on his generous identity as Terrol, servant of House Lanngolyn. He then bowed to him and Ryssa, and headed for the door… only to find it blocked by a large party of dark-skinned armed guards.
The foremost guard-clean-shaven but with shoulder length black hair and richly appointed clothes only marred by the grime of the road-smiled at the innkeeper, who greeted him with, "Welcome, Captain.
Honored greetings to ye and their excellencies!" The captain said, more to the party behind them than to Spider, "Your Excellency, our tables are ready." The captain and some of his guards moved past Raegar and headed directly toward the fire, creating a perimeter of guards around their tables. Raegar watched them pass and noticed how Damlath's companions pulled their hoods a little closer and shied away from them. The guards all wore livery in enamel badges-a green field with a golden emblem of wheat stalks wrapped by a scroll and a blue ring. While Raegar wasn't a short man, half of the guards loomed taller over him than he did over Spider. Raegar had seen the badge before in Waterdeep when his surveillance of Blackstaff Tower began.
He knew them as the retinue of Lord Gamalon Idogyr, Count of Spellshire and Sage of the Royal Court of Tethyr. Raegar stepped back toward the stairs to allow them access and realized there was no room at the threshold for six guards, four servants, the entering noblepersons, and himself. Fitting his servant's guise, Raegar backed up the stairs to clear the way for the party's entrance. He also realized that the tingling on his back was growing ever stronger, a fact made all the more disturbing when he looked out the door of the inn. On the porch, a man and a woman stood facing each other, their excellencies Lord and Lady Idogyr. The lady smiled at her husband, and Raegar strained to hear her over the hubbub generated by their party's arrival. He caught only the tail end. "-don't be such a show-off, making your eye glow with blue sparks for a grand entrance." She turned away, and when the count faced the doorway, Raegar's blood froze while tingles ran across his back from the sword. Gamalon, his bald head wrinkled in confusion, had a green gem where his left eye should have been, and the blue sparks spitting from it were easily spotted against his dark skin and salt-and-peppered beard. Raegar remembered the morning's destruction and glanced briefly toward Damlath, who seemed just as surprised as Gamalon. When their eyes locked, Raegar nodded and looked directly at the window on Damlath's left hand. He also made a quick hand signal, long practiced by them, to tell him to toss the
item in that direction. He didn't want everyone in the inn getting blasted by lightning, but Damlath stood, ignoring or misreading the signals. Raegar shot him a glare and thought, Guess it's every man for himself. Raegar backed the rest of the way up the stairs, fumbling with the buckle behind his back that held the blade and scabbard in place and muttering as he went,
"Blessed Tymora, free me from Beshaba's bad luck!" His attentions shifted between the buckle and the building glow that presaged arcs of lightning between the count's gem and the sword. Raegar groaned as the buckle caught on one of the other clasps for his armor. The scabbard and sword swung below his right arm, the leather smoldering and charring. Upstairs, he saw a short hallway with doors to seven rooms and windows overlooking the entry, the top of the stairs, and the end of the hallway flanking the chimney. Raegar heard a blade clear its scabbard as one of the count's guards mounted the stairs after him, having noticed his interest in their party. Raegar's mind raced as he tried to judge the best option in a bad situation. He yanked hard on the scabbard to free it just as a small bolt of lightning arced up the stairs to his sword through the guard, dropping him instantly. Knowing even more destruction was to come, Raegar threw the blade as hard as he could out the window over the entrance, praying that the lightning bolts would spare most of the people inside. Just as the sword cleared the window's frame, the blue sparks coalesced again into two arcs-one leading straight down at Gamalon's Eye and the other angling to the left, reaching for the wand Damlath had just acquired. The sizzle and flash of three full lightning bolts blasted through wood and stone, and the bolts gathered together to send a fourth blast skyward. Raegar watched the lightning dance across a clear sky, the massive bolt jerking across the horizon and heading toward the southeast. Below him, the screams of the patrons nearly overwhelmed the groaning noise of the building as the lightning-blasted front began to collapse.
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