The Nauseous Otyugh, by the way, is a bit ramshackle,a former general store put out of business by Aurora and her catalog. Thesecond floor was set back from the first, creating a wide porch, suitable forthe major Scornubel sports of drinking oneself into oblivion and watchingothers do the same on the street below. I had gotten quite good at bothactivities for the past two tendays, and was quite prepared to begin my careeras a Waterdhavian expatriate, sopping up the sun and the alcohol and tellingpeople about how horrid it was to live in a city like Waterdeep, where everysecond noble is a mage, and most of those are relatives.
And, of course, now I mentally kicked myself for notleaving Scornubel. Ampi had strongly recommended we keep moving a tenday ago,but I demurred. I would not be like some of my cousins, ordered around byservants, controlled by their butlers, mastered by their own magicalhomunculi. If I was to be banished from Waterdeep, I had told Ampi at the time,there was no better place to begin my exile than the balcony of old Nauseous,watching the caravans go by. But Scornubel was only a few hundred miles down the Trade Way from Waterdeep, and apparently not far enough from GranduncleMaskar's plots.
My mental wandering was interrupted when I was madeaware of a youth to my right, instead of the patient barmaid that had beenbringing my drinks. Surely it could not have been noon already, I thought, andthe changing of shifts. Someone would have come out with a lunch menu, at thevery least.
I strained to focus a bloodshot eye and discoveredthat the newcomer, bearing ale on a silver plate, was a halfling. His wideivory grin was visible in the shadows of a badly woven straw hat. I blinkedtwice, and when he failed to disappear, ventured a conversational gambit.
"Yes?" I asked, that being the soul of wit Icould manage at the moment.
"Beggin' yer pardon, sire," said the smalldemihuman, sweeping off the hat to reveal a tangle of red hair, "but Iunderstand that yer the gentlem'n that was lodgin' on the top flooryesterday eve? The one that had all the thunder and shoutin' andwhatever?"
I deeply wished I had some form of native magical abilityat the moment, for a comprehend languages spell, or a distill dialect, orwhatever would be useful. I chose to stay with a time-proven response: "Yes?"
The halfling shifted uneasily on his furry pads.
"Well, sire, I was outside and heard a lot of it,and the big god-voice said ye was huntin' the Raven."
I nodded slowly, hoping I would appear sage but inreality praying my melon would not pop loose from my shoulders and roll aroundon the porch.
"And you are …?"
"Caspar Millibuck, at yer servants," thehalfling continued. "Well, I'm huntin' the Raven meself, and I figgeredthat one like ye, with such powerful god-voices, could help one like me, bein'small and short and all, and we could both nab the thief together."
"Uh-huh," said I, banishing most of myfoggier thoughts back to the corners of my mind. "And why do you want theRaven?"
I had not just fallen off the spell-wagon, and knewthat halflings always had at least three reasons for doing anything, two ofwhich would violate local laws.
The halfling examined his fur-covered pedicure andsaid, "Well, it's just that the Raven stoled from me family as well, andI'm s'posed to get me coin back. I can't go home till I get it."
Even in its ale-induced state, my heart went out tothe small individual, trapped in a similar situation to my own.
"And what did the Raven steal from you?"
"Gold, sire," said the halfling quickly,"all the gold in me orph'nage."
"Orphanage?" I shook my head. "Ithought you said it was stolen from your family?"
"Indeed, sire," the halfling bobbed his headup and down rapidly. "Ever'body in my family's an orphan. We're veryunlucky."
"Indeed," I muttered, and wondered what thehalfling was really after.
Of course, Ampratines was nowhere about and here itwas nearly noon. If I could wrap things up without my erstwhile ally, thatwould show both the genie and my granduncle I knew a thing or two myself.
"Very well," I said. "Take me to theRaven. We'll sort things out, man to man."
"Ach, ye can't do that," slurred thehalfling. "The Raven's no man, but a doppelganger, and can change shape atwhim. I think I know where to find him, but ye have to be ready to move, andmove quick, when I call. Will ye be helpin' me? For the other orphans, atleast?"
With tears in his eyes, he looked up at me, and ofcourse, I said yes. Noble thing to do and all. And besides, this little fellowknew how to find the Raven, and that would make my job all the easier.
I took the ale from the halfling, but did not finishit. I sent the next ale back undrunk as well, and asked instead for a tabletand a stylus, and some of the house stationary. I was in the midst of composinga letter to Granduncle Maskar, telling him everything was under control, when Ampireappeared. One moment there was nothing to my left shoulder, and the next,there he was-as noble a djinni as ever 'jinned.
"I take it you have something," I snapped,the effects of the long-delayed hangovers coming to the fore. "You'vetaken most of the morning."
Ampi gave a small quarter-bow from the waist.
"A hundred apologies, Lord Tertius," hesaid. "It took some doing to ascertain the nature of the device and whatexactly happened to it. I finally spoke with a sylph that your granduncle usesto clean out the chimneys. She apparently witnessed most of the news on thisunpleasantness."
"Well then, spit it out," I said,impatiently tapping my stylus against the tablet.
"The Tripartite Orb is an artifact ofNetheril," said the genie, putting his hands behind his back like aschoolboy reciting his lessons. "Netheril was a kingdom of wizards thatfell thousands of years ago, before the founding of Cormyr or Waterdeep. Theleast of these wizards, it is said, was more powerful than the mightiest mages ofthe Realms."
"A kingdom of Granduncle Maskars?" I barelysuppressed a shudder. "The mind boggles."
"Indeed, it does, milord," said Ampratines."The Tripartite Orb was apparently a most potent weapon in that kingdom,for it had the ability to kill all magic within its immediate surroundings. Nofireball would explode in its proximity, no summoning would be effective, noward would protect, and no magical weapon would gain its weal. You can see whythis would be effective in a kingdom of wizards."
"Right ho," said I. "You get one nearit, and they're weak as puppies."
"Effectively so," said the djinni. "So,as a result, most of its history in Netheril consists of mages hiding it ininaccessible places while other mages hired warriors to wrest it from thosehiding spots. So it went through most of Netherese history, until the kingdom'sfall. It remained hidden until a dozen years ago, when a group of adventurersfound it in Anauroch. Your granduncle realized the danger of such amagic-destroying artifact immediately, and acquired it and locked it in hislowest dungeon."
"Far away from any prying eyes or othermagics," I put in.
"Quite. The device appears as a set of threecrystal globes, one floating within the next, which are made of iridescentcrystal, such that they resemble soap bubbles, I am told. As with allartifacts, it is indestructible by most normal means, so your granduncle put itunder lock and key in a safe location. And from that safe location, it wasstolen two tendays ago by a thief called the Raven, who is apparently headingdown the Trade Way to Scornubel."
"Which explains why Granduncle Maskar wants me torecover the thingamabob," I said.
"In part," said the genie. "Alsobecause you are one of the few members of the family without natural magicalability, perhaps he thought you would be less at risk if confronted with a lackof magic entirely."
"Or less of a loss if I ended up dead," Imuttered. "Well, at least I have your aid."