"We've been threatened by worse than fools like you who conjure enemies whenever he's denied any desire," Vajra said, glaring at him with sea green eyes. "The enemies you've always seen-from Sundabar to Athkatla to Waterdeep-were all your own fear or your own incompetence. Now, you tell yourselves you do this for Waterdeep. You delude yourselves. You do it for yourselves alone. The power you seek you neither deserve nor understand. Your teachers weep in the afterlife for your failures."
Granek growled and struck Vajra hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. As she fought to breathe, he said to Ten-Rings, "I'll get more answers out of her and tell you later. You'd best go, as all you three do is trade insults."
Khondar shook his head and punched his palm in anger. Centiv stalked out of the dungeon, through the entry chamber, and through the other door past the stairwell leading up. When en
Ten-Rings caught up to him at the end of the long hallway, the two of them stared at the Duskstaff, which hovered a foot off the floor in the center of the circular chamber
"It took a lot of magic to bring this here," Centiv said, "but with some illusions and Cral's ring, I can make it seem like I'm carrying it. We could take it to the tower and see if that truly does get us in. Beyond that, I'm sure the two of us can handle whatever the tower throws at us. It's obvious she doesn't deserve the powers hidden away in there."
"I've no doubt, Son," Khondar said, "but patience. She has secrets yet to be slipped, and I'd rather not face that tower without knowing we'll easily exit again. I'll not walk into a trap laid by Samark or one of his predecessors. We've wasted too much time. Go wander a bit and be sure to be seen as Samark. I have a guild meeting to attend. Do make sure the house and these cellars are properly warded this time."
CHAPTER 5
Were this humble scribe to note all those who fell before and behind to place such heroes upon their path, this account wouldst be lengthier still for all the blood and bone upon it.
9 Nightal, Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)
Selune and her Tears gleamed in the clear night sky, the lunar satellites illuminating the steam that rose from the mouths of those arguing in the cold night. The figures worked their way cautiously off Heroes' Walk and around to the south along Gunarla's Dash. Their boots scraped the frost-rimed cobblestones. Although they were among the few out on foot in this neighborhood, they did their best to remain in the shadows, hugging the rough wooden walls of the buildings. The moonlight glistened off the tile roofs up ahead, but Renaer couldn't spot anyone standing watch over the alleys. He waved his friends along, but their bickering continued.
"I'm just saying if you're a sorceress, why not conjure a few lights and save us the lamp oil and the smoke?" Vharem whispered.
"Magic is more precious than lamp oil, fool," Laraelra snapped. "Besides, it also attracts drifting glow-globes, so it would make it harder to hide. Now would you get out of my way?"
"Why do you need to be right next to Renaer?" Faxhal asked. "Sweet on him already? Fast work, Neverember."
Both Renaer and Laraelra hissed, "Shut up!" Faxhal merely grinned in response.
"Hey," Meloon said in an excited whisper, pointing to his right. "I've been in that tavern. Had my pocket picked, but recovered my loss in the fight after. Anybody else try The Mysticslake?"
"Will you all be quiet?" Renaer said. "We don't want to draw more attention than we already have."
"There's no one else out here, Ren," Vharem said.
"I want to keep it that way," he replied. "Besides, don't you always say that's when you should be more nervous? When you can't see who's watching?"
"What'reyou so worried about?" Faxhal asked.
Renaer threw his hands up. "We're about to break into a powerful wizard's house-even his ownership of it is suspect-and you're asking me what I'm worried about?"
Renaer paused at the alley intersection. The rest halted behind him, and Faxhal bumped into Laraelra. A lamppost illuminated the north side of Roarke House, the south sides of another of his warehouses, and the slate-tiled Kendall's Gallery. From this angle, the group could see the lights ablaze in the windows of the Halaerim Club across Kulzar's Alley. The windows of Roarke House were all dark. Renaer tugged his hood low and rushed past to the door of the building on his left. Renaer shrugged and then rotated his shoulders a few times, releasing some tension along with a long exhale. He rummaged in his belt pouches for the key he needed.
"I get it," Faxhal whispered. "He's worried because of you. He doesn't know if he can count on you."
"He can count on us," Meloon snapped at Faxhal. "You're the ones late to the party, as I see things. Laraelra and Renaer spent most of the day reading up on the old passages 'neath these buildings. You and he just showed up looking for a free meal and drinking."
"Like we always do," Vharem said. "We weren't expecting a home invasion on Gunarla's Dash. Not that lack of planning makes it any less fun."
"Please, let's keep talking until the Watch finally hears us," Laraelra grumbled.
Renaer grunted as he turned the key in the long-unused and rusted lock, and he pushed the scraping door inward. He turned and nodded at Vharem and Meloon, who both lit their lanterns and brought them up as the five of them shuffled inside. Renaer barely spoke louder once inside. "Welcome to Gildenfires, friends. Watch where you step."
The long-abandoned festhall still had some furniture and decor intact, but all could see why the place had been abandoned since the reign of the previous Open Lord. Scorch marks marred the paintings and half-burned gold draperies along the walls. Massive holes yawned in numerous places in the ceiling and floor.
"What happened here?" Meloon asked.
"A battle among some wizardly patrons," Vharem said. "No one could get any charges upheld, though. These men had so many people scared or bought. Rumor has it they were high-ranked members of the Watchful Order. Because the festhall operators couldn't claim restitution, they went broke and this building's been empty for twelve years. Dagult chose not to fix the place and just had it boarded up."
"Too bad, really." Faxhal sighed. "This place had some great attractions in its day."
"How would you know?" Laraelra asked. "You would have only been twelve or thirteen when it closed."
Faxhal winked at her in response, and Renaer chuckled as he saw Laraelra blush.
"Let's keep moving," Renaer said. He led the five of them past the piles of rubble and around the holes in the floor toward the kitchen. Other than their footsteps on the creaking floorboards, the squeals of rats fleeing were the only sounds.
"So remind me again why we're not out having a fine evening entertaining our new companions?" Vharem asked.
"I'm having fun," Meloon said.
"How many times do we have to tell you?" Laraelra said. "Meloon and I heard someone being tortured somewhere beneath this area. We just couldn't get to her."
"So why don't we use the way you two came before?" Faxhal asked.
"We couldn't reach it before," said Laraelra. "The guild should already be at work repairing that breach. Besides, I don't want word to reach my father that I'm-"
"Fraternizing with the high and mighty oppressors of us all?" Renaer smirked, his tone rising to a rough voice with a nasal high pitch.
Laraelra's jaw dropped and she said, "By the gods, that's a pitch-perfect impression of him! I didn't think you'd met him that often."
"Once was enough, I'm afraid," Renaer said. "Your father's rants disrupted a rather pleasant party I attended at the Jhoniron Club last summer down in Castle Ward. As for the impression, my apologies. I don't always realize when I'm mimicking someone's accent."