by Kate Novak
— Storm Silverhand
ACT TWO SCENE 1
Joel awoke to a soft touch on his shoulder. In the dim light of the curtained room, he could just make out Jas's winged silhouette.
"Jas? Are you all right?" he asked, still groggy with sleep.
"Can we talk?" Jas whispered.
"Yes. Sure. Open the curtains a little so I can see," Joel said.
Jas pulled the curtains back. A stream of afternoon sun flooded the room.
The bard sat up and motioned for Jas to have a seat at the foot of the bed.
Jas perched on the edge of the mattress. She didn't say anything for several moments. Instead, she simply looked down at her hands.
"Am I supposed to do the talking or you?" Joel asked, trying to humor the winged woman into a less somber mood.
"What do you think?" Jas asked.
"About what?" Joel replied.
"About going to see Tymora about my problem?"
"It sounds like a good idea to me," Joel replied.
Jas was quiet again. Joel sighed. "Jas, this beating around the bush just drives me crazy. Why don't you tell me about your history with Tymora, and then maybe I'll have some clue as to what's bothering you?"
"It's sort of complicated," Jas said.
"I'm a clever guy. I can handle complicated things," Joel said.
Jas took a deep breath and blew it out. Then she spoke. "My parents were adventurers, both paladins, like Holly. When I was just a girl, they were both murdered. They'd helped break up a ring of slavers, and in vengeance, the leader of the ring hired an assassin to kill them. A friend of my mother's fostered me. She was really nice, but I couldn't stand being in the city where my parents had lived. Everyone had known them and constantly reminded me about them. I loved my parents, but every time I remembered them, I remembered they were dead, and that just made me upset. So I ran away from Waterdeep."
Jas stared out the window as she spoke, never looking at the bard. There were streaks in the dust on her cheeks. They could have been from tears, but they might just have been from sweat. Joel could smell her perspiration across the bed. She'd flown until she'd worn herself out.
"I took a job as a hired sword with an adventurer named Carter," Jas said, continuing her tale. "He was a professional troublemaker. If you wanted to ruin a person's reputation or bankrupt a merchant firm or turn brother against brother, Carter was the guy you hired. He was good at what he did, and he didn't work cheap. He taught me a lot and paid me a lot… It took a while, but slowly I began to realize Carter wasn't such a nice guy, and the things he did weren't either. Still, I couldn't bring myself to simply leave him. I was far from my home and friends. Carter often told me I couldn't survive without him, and I believed him."
Jas pulled her feet up on the bed and hugged her knees. "Then one day," she said, "everything in my life changed. I was in the right place at the right time, I guess. I was keeping watch over an alley door for Carter, waiting for two priests to go through the door. While I'm hiding in this trash bin with a tiny peephole to look through, this thief runs into the alley and tosses a sack into the trash right on top of me. Then three other thieves come barreling into the alley. They corner the first thief and demand their share of the loot from Tymora's temple. The first thief tries to feed them some story about the heist not going off. In the meantime, I'm looking into the sack. The contents are worth a fortune. There's platinum coin and all this jewelry and a cape made of white feathers. Then I see there's something moving around among the feathers. It's about four inches long, slimy and writhing like a worm. Really ugly. Then I see there's this cracked eggshell. The slimy, writhing thing has just hatched, or maybe its shell broke when the thief tossed it into the trash.
"Outside, the thieves are still arguing, and one of them stabs the first one and the first one stabs him back. The pair of them fall down, trying to hold their guts inside their bodies. One of the thieves is a mage. He turns and shoots five magic missiles in the back of the last thief. When he's all alone in the alley, he starts searching for the sack. I know its only a matter of minutes before he looks into the trash. I come spilling out of the trash bin with the sack in hand and take off down the alley, but the mage is fast. He teleports himself into my path and blocks my way out of the alley. He doesn't look human anymore. He's changed into a shadow man with horns and bat wings and fangs. I hold the sack up in front of me like a shield, so he doesn't dare risk using his magic on me. He says if I give him the egg, hell let me have the rest of the loot.
"It wasn't that I was all fired up about protecting the egg thing. I'm not an idiot. I know I'm dead the moment this creature gets his hand on the egg thing. So I refuse his offer, and I draw my sword, still holding the sack in front of me like a shield. I don't really believe I can beat the shadow creature in a fight, but I'm not letting it kill me without one. Just then, two priests of Torm come into the alley. They're the two priests I was supposed to be watching out for when I was hiding in the trash. They see the shadow creature, and right away they start calling out to their god and casting bolts of light. "When the bolts of light hit him, the shadow creature howls like a dog someone stepped on and disappears. The two priests are all solicitous, making sure I'm all right. They're sure the shadow is some sort of sign, so instead of going into the building to which Carter had so carefully lured them, they go back to their temple to pray. I know Carter's going to be furious, so I'm not real eager to tell him about any of what just occurred. Instead, I go to the temple of Tymora to turn over the loot the thieves stole.
"The priests at Tymora's temple go nuts with joy when I show up with the sack of loot. They say that Tymora must have guided my hand. I know Tymora didn't have anything to do with me hiding in that trash bin, but I keep my mouth shut. They hold this big party to celebrate the return of the loot, especially the hatchling. It's a baby faerie dragon they had sworn to keep safe. I'm still not keen to go back to Carter, so I stay for the party. There's this priestess at the party who takes me back into the temple to talk. There's something familiar about her, but I can't figure out what. The church wants to reward me. She challenges me to a game of cards… nothing complicated. Just a game of empress. If she wins, she'll choose my reward for me. If I win, I get to pick my reward. Anything I want. I agree. She shuffles. I cut. She deals."
Jas hopped off the edge of the bed and paced over to the window. She looked out across the fields of Finder's realm for a few moments. Then she spun around and looked straight at Joel. "Well, I win the game, but figuring out what I want isn't so easy. What I really want is for my parents not to be dead, but that's not going to happen. I also want to leave Carter, but to do that I need something to make me independent. I don't ask for money. Money can be stolen, and when it's gone, it's gone. I need a skill I can use. Suddenly this pigeon flies through a window of the temple up to a nest near the ceiling, and I say, 'I want to be free like that bird. I want to be able to fly.' The priestess gives me this sad little smile like I'm a kid who just asked for cake for dinner.
"I meant I wanted to be able to fly the way a mage does with a spell. I didn't mean I wanted giant wings sticking out of my back, but the next thing I know, I look like an overgrown pixie. I ask the priestess to take the wings back, but she says they'll serve as a reminder that I'm always flying away from my problems instead of dealing with them. When I learn to face my problems, she says, I'll be blessed with all the luck I need. Then she vanishes." Jas snapped her fingers. "Just like that. Gone. That's when I realize she wasn't a priestess. The reason she looked familiar is because she looked just like the statue of Tymora that's on the altar in front of me. Now I'm really angry, but I'm not so stupid that I'm going to fight with a goddess, so I just leave."
Jas turned back to the window and was silent for some time.
"Did you go back to Carter?" Joel asked curiously.
Jas turned around again. "He didn't want me hanging around anymore," she said. "He liked to keep a low profile wherever he went, and I
was much too noticeable. After telling me for months that I can't survive without him, he suddenly says I can take care of myself just fine. And I did." She spread her wings out, then let them drop back down. "So now you know why I avoid having anything to do with gods. If they decide to judge and sentence you, there's nothing you can do about it, and they can really make a mess of your life. Not that Finder hasn't been a decent guy," she added hastily.
"But you're still afraid to face Tymora," Joel said.
"Wouldn't you be?" Jas asked with an exasperated tone.
"Well, the fact that you're trying to get rid of the dark stalker in you shows that you aren't flying away from your problems," Joel said. "At least, that's what it looks like to me."
Jas tilted her head thoughtfully.
"What's the worst that could happen?" Joel asked. "After all, Iyachtu Xvim put a dark stalker in you and made you look like an owl."
Tymora could make me look like something else," Jas said darkly.
"Something worse than an overgrown pixie? That would be bad," Joel joked.
Jas glared at the bard. "She might say it serves me right and turn me down."
"She might. If she does, we'll leave. I don't think she will, though," Joel said. "She's been a good friend to Finder."
"So you think I should go to Brightwater to see Tymora?"
"Jas, it doesn't matter what I think. It's your decision "
"Fine," Jas said shortly. "Then I'll go."
"Good," Joel answered.
BEHIND THE SCENES
The little figures babbled with excitement as the dark servant entered the tent carrying a wooden box inscribed with ancient text.
A tall figure stepped forward and loomed over the servant. "Open the box," the figure ordered in a deep voice.
The servant flipped up the lid of the box. Within, embedded in white velvet, was a small crystal sphere of the deepest blue.
"Take up the sphere," the figure commanded, "and hold it between the rose and the coin."
The servant drew out the sphere with a trembling hand and held it over the center of the altar of stone. On one side of the sphere, suspended magically in midair, was a white rose, still sparkling with crystals of ice from the Desertsmouth Mountains of Toril. On the other side, also held in the air by magic, was an old platinum coin stamped with the profile of an elven woman on one side and the sigil of the ancient and long since ruined kingdom of Myth Drannor on the other. The servant released the blue crystal sphere, and it hovered between the rose and the coin.
"Now it is time to begin the spell," the looming figure said, pulling the servant away from the altar. And time, the figure thought privately, to drink of Tymora's power.
OFFSTAGE
Somewhere in the Prime Material Plane on the world known as Toril in Realmspace, the renowned mage Volothamp Geddarm, known simply as Volo to his friends, was sweating profusely. It was alarming how quickly the friendly game of table dice with the barbarian mercenary leader had turned ugly. Not that Volo was losing. If he were losing, he could extricate himself with a smile and an excuse. No. Volo was winning, winning against an ogre-sized man with a hairy back and a deer-skinning knife that could serve a halfling as a short sword.
On his first roll of doubles, Volo allowed himself a chuckle. When his next roll also turned up doubles, the mage merely smiled. By his fifth consecutive roll of doubles, Volo felt the first trickle of sweat dripping down the side of his face. His opponent's scowl had grown so deep that his heavy brow shadowed half his nose and turned his eyes into deep black pits. On Volo's sixth roll of doubles, the barbarian pulled out a whetstone and tugged at the clasps of his knife sheath. On Volo's seventh roll, snake eyes, the barbarian pulled out his knife and began running it across the stone.
Volo was sweating so hard he felt as if he was steaming away and wished that he could. It would be a clever escape, to turn to vapor and drift away, too insubstantial to pursue. The barbarian reached for the dice cup. He, too, looked hot, but not from terror. He rolled a five. Enraged, he flung the ale in his mug to the floor and slammed the dice into the emptied ale mug, obviously convinced Volo was using an enchanted dice cup.
"Perhaps we should leave this for-" Volo began.
"Roll," the barbarian growled. He tested his sharpened knife blade by whittling off a layer of the maple dicing table.
Volo rolled… double sixes. There were tears in his eyes.
The barbarian cursed Volo and Volo's gods as he snatched up the dice and rattled them around in the ale mug. He slammed the mug down and lifted it. A one and a three. Making an ugly declaration about the ancestry of Volo's father, the barbarian pushed the mug back toward Volo.
"I don't understand how-" Volo squeaked.
"Roll, damn your bones!" shouted the barbarian. Volo could swear he saw a fire glowing in the pits of his opponent's eyes.
Volo slid the dice into the mug, gripping the handle as if it might escape. He hesitated for a moment, then flung the mug full force at his opponent as he dodged sideways.
The barbarian raised a hand to fend off the missile and threw the deer knife across the table. The knife buried itself several inches into the door, but Volo had made his exit through the second-story window.
The barbarian stood up and retrieved his knife. That's when he spotted the dice on the floor beside the ale mug. Double sixes.
With a roar, the barbarian ran from the room, determined to chase down and destroy the fiend before it wreaked worse havoc.
Limping on a twisted ankle and shivering in the warm Elturel night, Volo whimpered a chiding prayer to the goddess Tymora. "Lady, what were you thinking, to waste so much good luck on me?"
ACT TWO SCENE 2
Once Joel, Jas, and Emilo had bathed and changed into clean clothes, they joined Finder out in the garden for a light supper. Over the meal, Emilo asked to journey with them to meet Tymora, and Finder acquiesced. When they finished off the wine, they made a chain with their hands, and Finder teleported to Brightwater with them.
They arrived in the middle of a broad avenue and were nearly run over by a pair of horses, each ridden by a young woman in a nightgown. Finder pulled the adventurers off to the side in the nick of time. One of the horses, startled by the sudden appearance of the adventurers, fell a length behind the other.
Joel gave a low whistle of relief. He looked around in astonishment as he followed Finder up the street.
All about them, the town of Brightwater glittered in the setting sun. Joel couldn't remember having seen so much gilt in a city before. Great mansions sported golden domes like the Gilded Hall. Each of the stores and taverns featured some architectural aspect to attract the eye- gaudy statues, magnificent fountains and archways, charming stained-glass windows, structures with unusual, even impossible shapes. Even the meanest of shacks displayed some touch of trim that gleamed with the look of a precious metal or stone.
His eyes wide with wonder, Emilo whispered, "Even the streets are paved with gold!"
Finder chuckled. "It's only an illusion. Gold streets wouldn't last long. Gold is too soft a metal. Here we are. The Hall of Chance." The god stepped through a marble archway and seemed to disappear. Hastily the others followed.
They found themselves in a vast room opulently decorated with red carpeting and crystal chandeliers. Crowds of people stood or sat about tables of polished obsidian playing every game of chance known to the Realms, including some games Joel had never seen before. Their ears were assaulted with the din of the gamblers' voices. Some were calling out wagers; others announced the outcomes of freshly rolled dice; still others called for extra cards to be dealt. Within a minute, though, the din had subsided to a hushed murmur as the gamblers turned their attention from their games and focused on Finder and his party.
As Finder moved forward, people stepped aside until there was a clear path between him and a table at the back of the room. Seated at the table, on a high stool, was a slender woman with short, dark hair. She wore a short, gold-trimme
d tunic of white satin, a brown leather vest, and high leather boots, which hugged a pair of shapely legs. A slender silver coronet encircled her head and glittered in the light. The woman turned about on the stool as Finder approached.
Joel would have known her for the goddess of good fortune were she dressed as a scullery maid. The songs of her grace and charm were not exaggerated. The bard could understand immediately why Finder put so much faith in her. Joel himself was instantly smitten, and he halted in his tracks a little afraid of how eager he felt to approach her. Jas remained beside Joel as Finder continued forward. Undaunted, Emilo followed close on the heels of Joel's god.
Three paces before the goddess, Finder stopped. He made a very low and formal bow, then stepped up to accept the hand that Tymora held out to him. He brushed his lips against her fingertips.
"Finder, you reckless fool," the goddess greeted him. She ran her hand over the god's beard and tugged playfully at it. "What mischief have you been up to? I have heard the most alarming and unbelievable stories," she teased. "Since you know me, lady, you no doubt believe them," Finder replied.
"Oh, yes," Tymora agreed.
Emilo laughed.
Tymora leaned to one side to get a better look at Emilo. "And who is this gentleman?" she asked.
"My lady, allow me to present Emilo Haversack of Ten-grapes," Finder said.
Emilo imitated Finder's bow. "Pleased to meet you, lady," he said when he'd risen.
"And how did you come to be in the entourage of this godling rogue, Mr. Haversack?" Tymora asked the kender.
"Well, first I stepped through a magical vortex to the city of Sigil. That's where I met Jas and Joel. Joel offered to bring me to Finder so he could help me to go home, but when Joel and Jas said they were coming here, I asked to come with them so I could see you, too," Emilo replied. "I'd never met a goddess before-that I know of, anyway. But having met you, I realize it would be hard not to know, since you just seem to shine…"
