"By the gods, man!" Osco said. "We're hunted! Less story, more information!"
Parlek frowned and said, "Of course, you're right, you're right. The Jhaarnnan Hands are a matched set of gold bracers and sculpted stone hands, which allow Khondar to swap out magical rings he wears with those on the Hands. I assume he wears a ring on each digit to disguise when he changes rings."
"So if we find these hands, we can strip him of power?" Meloon asked.
"Doubtful, but decreasing his power should keep you alive." Parlek shrugged.
"Don't suppose you've got a way to just blink us over to Black-staff Tower, do you, old man?" Renaer asked, winking at Parlek.
He laughed and said, "Even though magic's more stable in the city, Renaer, there's very few of us who would dare to teleport to Blackstaff Tower-even if we could."
"So we're on our own," Vharem sighed.
"I think you'll find that the only folk who're pursuing you in the streets are the ignorant or those corrupt few who seek to curry favor with those more corrupt above them." Parlek rose and approached another door, which he opened to reveal another set of stairs leading down. "These are the outside stairs leading out onto Firegoad's Gambol. If you're lucky, you can take that down to the Talltumble Stairs, which should get you to Castle Ward. From there, you've a bit of a run to Blackstaff Tower. May the gods whisk you along, friends."
They left Patlek's home and emerged onto a slate-colored brick street that was starting to bustle with activity. When a few folk took note of them because of the unconscious woman in Renaer's arms, he quickly explained, "She's sick. We're looking for the nearest shrine to Tymora."
The fact that she was hooded and heavily wrapped against the cold kept most from recognizing who she was. Some helpful folk pointed out directions, while others shunned them, but they made their way to the top of the Talltumble Stairs as most folk ended their mornfeast and got on to work in the city.
The Talltumble Stairs clambered down the eastern slope of Mount Watetdeep to provide a way for the Watch and others to go up or down into Mountainside. The name came from how folk lost their balance on the shallow steps and oft-tumbled down a bit of the mountain slope. The name remained, even after the Stonecutters' Guild reworked the stairs from one complete straight run to a number of angled staits with four resting platforms along the way.
The party made its way down the first set of stairs to the Lovers' Landing, so named for its use at night by amorous nobles of Mountainside. The only others on the stairs were merchants carting goods in packs, heading up to the High Market to sell their wares. No one gave the party much notice, focused as they were on simply keeping their balance and their wind while trudging up the steps with their heavy packs.
The party continued to the Dragon's Spout, the informal name for the second landing, at which there was a magically maintained fountain with clear, fresh water. The stone fountain-a carved dragon's head-once topped the Dragontower of Maaril, but that edifice had rocketed skyward during the Spellplague and exploded high over the city. The only piece to have survived was the dragon's head, which was put to use at this fountain.
Osco whispered to Vharem, "Hey, V, is this going too easily or is it just me?"
"No, it's not just you," Vharem said, his hand resting on his sword hilt, as he looked around at all those approaching them.
The group paused to drink at the fountain, and Renaer passed Vajra over to Vharem to stretch out his atms and lean over for a drink. With the group clustered around the fountain, Osco snapped to attention and hopped up onto the fountain's surrounding ledge. "Something's wrong."
"What makes you say that?" Meloon asked.
"It just got really quiet, and those two people on the far side of the fountain haven't stopped talking." He unfurled a whip at his belt and snapped it out into mid-air-and suddenly the air shivered around them.
Within a bteath of Osco's whip-snap, nine young wizards wearing the gray robes of the Watchful Order surrounded him and his friends against the fountain.
"How the gods did he know?" A young mage yelled as he came into sight.
His companion lurched over, howling and holding his face. He glared at Osco, the welt on his cheek fresh and bleeding. "You'll pay for that, halfling."
All nine of the gray-robes held wands, aimed at Laraelra and her friends.
CHAPTER 13
Regrets? I haven't wasted my time or energy on them for seventy winters, and I'll not start now. All I do lament are missed opportunities, ignorant fools, absentfriends, and good wine spilled.
Kyriani "Blackstaff" Agrivar, A Life Relentless, Year of the Fallen Friends (1399 DR)
11 Nightal, Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)
It shocked Eiruk Weskur that these accused murderers traveled so brazenly with an injured person, but he held his wand on the large blond barbarian while Sarkap called out, "Renaer Neverember and company, you are to come with us to answer for your crimes!"
Eiruk knew all of the gray-robes had wands to either paralyze or slow their foes down, but he didn't trust Mauron or Ulik to not have more potent magics at hand. The pair of them were fanatic followers of Guildsenior Naomal, and they followed his every command. While Eiruk respected the wizard, he could not put his finger on why he felt increasingly nervous around him.
Some of the younger apprentices seemed scared even while leveling wands at Renaer and his friends, but the Naomal-loyalists seemed happy to provoke a confrontation, including Sarkap.
"Put down your weapons and throw yourself on our mercy!" Sarkap said.
Eiruk hated working with these bullies, but his tutors tasked him with cloaking them with illusions to take their targets unawares. Eiruk just wanted answers. He'd only heard about the murder of
Vajra that morning and was still numb. She'd been his friend-and now she could never be more than that.
Renaer held up his hands and said, "As you can see, we can't be guilty of someone's murder-"
"Silence!" Ulik yelled. "Riarlemn!" His wand fired a blue-gray beam, but Renaer leaped forward and down, avoiding it, and it struck the dragon's head fountain to no effect.
Renaer answered the attack with a dagger, stopping his roll forward but letting the dagger fly as he did so. The ornate hilt of Renaer's dagger stuck out of Ulik's arm, his blood staining the sleeve, and the young man howled as if mortally wounded.
Eiruk watched in horror as his companions unleashed spell-missiles on every member of the party, including the wounded woman. Her hood fell back as she grunted in pain from the missiles her bearer failed to shield her from. Eiruk's jaw dropped. It was Vajra-alive!
His head and heart revolted. Eiruk been ordered to capture her murderers, but here the supposed murderers were protecting her.
"Stop!" Eiruk yelled, but few were listening. They were all trained in the Art, but most had never been in a magical fight. Thus, the apprentices panicked or, like the bullies Mauron and Sarkap, took advantage of the situation to abuse others. Luckily, those brutes focused on those who fought back, not the helpless like Vajra.
Eiruk heard Renaer yell for them to stop, but no coolet heads heard him. Laraelra Harsard unleashed a well-aimed blast of colors that knocked out Mauron and blinded two others, but Raman paralyzed her with a bolt from his wand. Renaer's friend Vharem Kuthcutter, who had set Vajra behind the fountain, slashed an angry wound across Ulik's arm, making him drop his wand. The bully of the third-year dormitories fainted at the sight of more of his own blood. The halfling wielded his whip effectively and managed to trip Gharill, bouncing the wizard's head off the cobbles.
Despite surprise and their better numbers, some younger Watchful Order apprentices panicked, running from the fight when challenged with a blade. The few who remained either missed or aimed only at the biggest target-the blond man named Meloon. However, Eiruk saw the blond man step in front of spells and heard him yell, "Protect Vajra!"
That's when Eiruk made his choice. He focused on the remaining three Watchful Order attackers. He
wove his spell carefully, and two of his compatriots fell asleep, slumping to the ground, while the third whirled around to face Eiruk in disbelief.
"Traitor!" Sarkap screamed. "Ten-Rings will kill you!" His attention on Eiruk, Sarkap didn't even see the halfling's whip lash out, wrap around his leg, and pull that leg out from under him. All he saw were the cobblestones rushing up'at him to send him to oblivion. Eiruk smiled grimly when he saw two broken teeth fly out of Sarkap's mouth.
Renaer sighed and said, "Thanks, friend," though Vharem, Meloon, and Laraelra all glared at Eiruk with suspicion.
"I did this for Vajra," Eiruk said. "They said you killed her, but I saw-is she all right?"
"She will be, if we can get her to-" Laraelra said
But Vharem interrupted her. "We're not murderers. Why not call off your dogs?"
"I tried, but…" Eiruk noticed that some of the wizards were stirring, so he said, "Let's go. We'll talk on the way!"
Renaer nodded and picked up Vajra while Meloon unhooked a massive axe from his back, its edges glistening with blue energy. The axe reminded Eiruk of something, but he didn't have time to think yet.
Once the others were past him and down the stairs to the next landing, Eiruk lay a spell down to slow pursuit-he savored the irony of using it to help, not hinder, Renaer and his friends. As he turned to follow the others, Eiruk found Vharem sticking close to him, a naked blade in his hand. "Give me one reason, wizard, and I'll hurt you worse than your men hurt my friends."
"All I care about is her safety," Eiruk said, pointing at Vajra. "If that's your goal, we're on the same side."
Yells dtew Vharem and Eiruk's attention behind them on the stairs. Two apprentices had reached the steps where Eiruk's spell lay, and both slipped as if grease coated the steps. Both fell off the stairs and rolled a bit down the slope of the mountain. Vharem smirked slightly and lowered the point of his blade, but Eiruk knew it would take more to gain the man's friendship.
The last wizard on that patrol, a fourth-year named Phalan, lit up the morning sky overhead with green fire. The fireball exploded, and emerald sparks showered down onto Eiruk, Vharem, and the others-but no bystanders on the stairs.
"Stlaern," Eiruk swore. "This spell will draw every patrol right to us — Watchful Order and Watch alike!" He and Vharem reached the next landing, halfway down the slope.
The seven of them, their bodies sharing bright green auras, took refuge behind the only cover they had at this landing. Northspur Rock, like other massive boulders on Mount Waterdeep too latge to move out of the way, jutted out of the landing constructed around it. Eiruk joined the othets behind the massive house-sized rock, shielding them from immediate view. Only then did he realize they were backed into a corner against a sheer cliff of exposed rock with no way out but the stairs.
"Goodleading, Elra." The halfling's voice dripped with sarcasm. "I love being cornered."
The chorus of "Be quiet, Osco!" at least gave Eiruk the half-ling's name.
"I am Ei-" he started to introduce himself, but he gasped as Vajra woke to his voice. Instead of the intense brown eyes he loved, she stared at him with lettuce green eyes that reminded him of Samark.
"Eiruk Weskur," Vajra said. "You may accept Ainla's son, friends. He can be ttusted, now that his path intercepts ours."
Eiruk's stomach felt like it dropped away. Vajra didn't know his mother's name-but her mentot did. "Samark?" he asked.
Vajra nodded. "All of us… we need your help, son."
"Help's what ye need all right," said a gruff voice. The speaker was a squinting, much-scarred man with a patchy scruff of a beard, a rusty chain shirt, and a large number of friends behind him. Only then did Eiruk remember that Northspur Landing was also a mercenaries' gathering place. The leader growled out to his followers, "Boys, I hear there's a price on their heads taller than a tavern. Whatsay we capture these folk before the Watch does it for free? Or before some of them angry wizards yonder steal our bounty?"
Eiruk gulped as they all turned to meet the voice. A score of grizzled sellswords raised weapons.
CHAPTER 16
While I might map all the unseen pockets of magery about the city, I cannot predict the effects visited upon those who trod upon them. Northspur Rock alone has blessed or cursed many a guardsman on the mountain, whether they knew it or no.
Khelben "Blackstaff" Arunsun, On the Matter ofMagecraft and the City, Year of the Stalking Satyr (1179 DR)
11 Nightal, Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)
Sellswords closed in on the party from both sides. Vharem counted at least nine men closing in on them from the far side of the tock, all armed with drawn. swords, cudgels, or maces. Laraelra shouted a spell and blasted them with a silent maelstrom of colors; while many of them howled and grabbed at their eyes, only one fell unconscious. Osco jumped up onto the Northspur Rock and scattered caltrops among the men, the sharp metal barbs slowing their advance.
Between Laraelra and Vharem, Eiruk Weskur swept his arms up as he intoned a spell, and a cloud of glittering golden sparkles erupted among the metcenaties closing in on them from the rock's southwest side. All but two of them clutched at their eyes and yelled about going blind. Like Vharem and his companions' green glows, the mercenaries shone in gold light.
Vharem clapped Eiruk on the shoulder and nodded his thanks. "That helps, but we're still trapped. Come, Meloon-Osco's got the right idea. We need the high ground to tackle a lot of them!"
Vharem scrambled up the rougher side of the Northspur and found the halfling whipping sling stones down on the heads of blinded mercenaries and cackling with glee. "I liked the sneaking-about plan better, V!"
"Me, too." Vharem sighed, as he showered the larger crowd near Vajra and Renaer with caltrops of his own.
Meloon clambered up the rough outcropping, his axe dangling from his wrist by a strap. Once Meloon stood next to him atop the rock, Vharem saw the bright blue flames suffusing the axe head.
Atop the Northspur, Vharem saw how dire a situation they were all in. Four of them were hemmed in between the rock and the cliff face by twenty sellswords. From above and below, wizards flew in their direction.
"What do you think we should do?" Vharem said. When he turned and looked up at Meloon, he saw the axe's blue flames filling the man's eyes. Meloon didn't respond other than to swing his axe with both arms, his actions forcing Vharem to fall back onto Osco. Meloon swung the axe in a wide circular arc, twisting his body as he did so, and the blue flames became a pulse of magic that flashed out in all directions. The four wizards flying up from the city and the pair flying down the mountain all dropped out of the sky, trailing light blue flames as they fell.
Lying atop the Northspur, Vharem looked down at his oldest friend and knew he had to help him.
"Vajra!" Vharem yelled, and she stirred, her eyes a blur of shifting color and energy. "Blackstaff, we need you!"
She glowered at him, her eyes focused points of cobalt blue. Her head scanned around and she growled as she got her bearings. "Northspur, good," she said. She began a complicated spell, her voice a low whisper, but her hands never stopped moving. The ground beneath the four of them began to glow.
Renaer whispered, "Everyone get close and ready. I don't know what she's doing, but that glow's staying tight around us.
Vharem, get ready to join us or head out. You know where to meet us."
Osco whipped a sap down at a half-blinded cutthroat who moved toward Vajra, and the man crumpled, falling atop another blinded sellsword. Vharem saw a bull of a man shake his head to clear his vision, and then raise a rusty battleaxe, aiming at Laraelra. Vharem pierced the man's arm with a thrown dagger, forcing him to drop the axe. Laraelra's quicksilver bolts hit him in the chest and head, and he died before he hit the ground. Eiruk Weskur reached past Renaer and cast his spell, entangling the other dozen or more sellswords to the southwest in thick, gtay strands of spiderwebbing. The gray tangles blocked off that escape, but it also hindered the sellswords. Curses, swear w
ords, and the futile struggles of the sellswords shook the webs from within.
Meloon drew up to his full height with Azuredge, then he chopped the Northspur rock. The boulder shot blue flames at the eight sellswords on the northeast approach. Those eight flew out of the way like a shipwreck thrown by a wave.
Vajra continued her spell, and Vharem watched the ground beneath them, while still solid enough to stand on, grow transparent. Renaer gulped as he saw a huge pit yawning beneath them, even though it remained solid ground beneath his feet. Vajra's eyes darted up at Vharem, then back at Renaer, without halting her spell.
"Osco, get ready," Vharem said, "and…"
Renaer yelled with Vharem "Jump!" as Vajra said, "Sruahiil!" and those inside the circle of transparent rock began to slowly sink through it.
Osco stood atop Northspur and said, "You are mad if you thi-hey!"
Vharem grabbed Osco by the belt and yelled, "Elra, catch!" He flung the hin to her in the glowing circle. The halfling nearly collided with Laraelra, closing his eyes at the expected impact, but his plummet became a slow fall in unison with her.
Osco laughed when he opened his eyes, hanging upside-down above the flinching sorceress. He yelled, "Come, V!"
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