Shackled City Epic: "Vengeance" (story concluded)

[Lazybones]

Yes, in my NWN campaign last weekend, a confusion spell caught up the party fighter/tank, who proceeded to take down first the party mage and then the cleric in quick succession. All while under attack from a nasty Avatar of Loviatar. That was a dicey battle (luckily I have 6 players, so they survived, but I think just about everyone had visited negative hit point land by the end of the melee).


* * * * *

Chapter 88

Arun quickly realized that facing the umber hulk head-on was only going to result in his rather messy demise. He staggered back, opening his mind to the divine power of Moradin, letting the healing energy of his bond to his patron surge through him, easing the pain of his injuries.

He underestimated the hulk’s reach, however, as one of its gangly but powerful arms shot out, catching him across the face with a blow that knocked him roughly back into the rubble. Arun slumped down, blood oozing from the fresh cuts across his face.

The hulk let out a shriek as Dannel finally scored a solid hit, his arrow sinking deeply into one of the gaps in its armored shell where its limbs met its body. The creature turned again and with amazing speed burrowed back down into the ground, stirring up a cloud of dirt and dust that hung in the air briefly as it vanished from view.

Zenna twisted her body abruptly to the side, but Mole’s bolt still sliced across her chest, tearing through her clothes and flesh before glancing off her breastbone. The impact, oblique though it was, still felt like she’d been punched in the chest by an ogre.

She looked down at Mole, and saw that the gnome had drawn her sword, and was spinning around, chanting something incoherent. She could hear the roars of the creature as well, and knew that Arun and Dannel would likely be needing her help right about now.

“Flee!” Zenna commanded. Obediently, Mole abruptly ceased what she was doing, and turned and ran, still screaming.

She’s probably the smart one, Zenna thought, before turning back to the battle—just in time to see Arun go down and the creature burrow back under the street.

It was immediately clear that the hulk wasn’t departing the scene, as the sidewalk in front of the ruined warehouse suddenly lurched and snapped, forming a jagged peak a few feet high. That pattern repeated itself as a wave of rising cobbles broke across the street, forming a corridor that clearly indicated the hulk’s progress underground. It was heading for the building across and a short distance up the street, right toward where Dannel was helping a few confused citizens get free of the area...

“Look out!” Zenna warned, and he nodded—he’d seen it coming as well. Not surprisingly, he kept on right what he was doing, even as the ridge of displaced street cobbles drew nearer to his position.

Zenna rushed over to where Arun sat bleeding up against a pile of rubble that had been the southeast corner of the warehouse a few minutes earlier. Bits of debris continued to sift down through the destruction, though thankfully the rest of the roof over this part of the building still held, sagging over them threateningly.

The dwarf opened his eyes as she knelt beside him. His face was a wreck, and a ghastly cut along the side of his head continued to ooze blood.

“Blasted bug,” Arun managed to mutter, blood dripping from his torn lips as they moved.

“You crazy dwarf,” she said, opening her mind to the power that she accessed through her meditations and unlocking of the mysteries that Esbar had opened for her. She felt it surge through her like a crashing wave, channeled from some other realm, through her, into the dwarf. The blue glow spread from her fingers into his wounds, undoing some of the damage. Stirring, the dwarf returned more fully to consciousness, though he was still grievously wounded.

The first thing he did was start looking around for his hammer, and tried to get up, his battered body still awkward and resistant to his mind’s commands.

“Hold still a moment,” Zenna tisked. “You’ll do no one any good if you rush back into battle, only to get knocked back down again.” She pressed a vial from her pouch into the dwarf’s bloody hand, and as the dwarf lifted it to his lips, Zenna continued to pour healing energy into him.

“You’re hurt too,” the dwarf said, looking much better as the combined flows of healing power restored much of his vigor. He was steady now as he lifted himself up, shaking off fat droplets of blood from his sodden and shredded clothing, bending to recover his hammer from where it had fallen a few paces away.

“You won’t stand a chance without your armor,” Zenna said, ignoring his remark even though the gash in her chest blazed like fire. “Hold on just another few seconds.”

“That thing’s back again!” Arun protested, and Zenna could hear it too; a loud crash from across the street. The trail of dislodged street made by the hulk’s passage ran under a building about forty feet down and across the roadway, a single-story edifice equipped with brick facings, overhanging eaves, and heavy wooden shutters drawn across the half-dozen or so windows that she could see. She and Dannel had been walking in front of the place when this started; it was a moneychanger’s or some similar business.

Her guess was confirmed as they heard another crash, accompanied by the jingling sound of metal that carried quite clearly even over the chaos of the street. The street was mostly deserted by now, with a few stragglers still affected by the hulk’s confusion. Dannel was helping a few of them get their bearings and get clear of the moneychanger’s house, where no doubt the hulk was wreaking destruction inside.

Arun looked positively antsy as he waited impatiently for Zenna. The wizardess ignored him as she called one last time on the repository of divine power she accessed through her mind, channeling the power of Azuth into a protective field of mage armor that she laid upon the dwarf. She’d never cast the spell on another, but as the protective glow settled in upon him, fading quickly into invisibility, she felt a brief surge of elation.

“All right, go,” she said. The dwarf nodded and was gone, charging across the street, looking like nothing more than a madman charging toward the battle in his tattered clothes tainted with his own blood and dirty with stone dust and caked earth. She felt a momentary surge of fear as she looked across the street and couldn’t see Dannel, but then caught sight of him coming around the corner of the building, his bow loaded and ready in his hands. Apparently the chaos had finally drawn other attention, as well, as she saw several armed guardsmen carrying halberds making their way up the street toward their location.

She glanced down the street, but Mole was nowhere in sight. Sighing, she drew out her wand of burning hands and started after Arun.

The elf and dwarf were both converging on the side of the building facing the street when a series of loud noises issued from within, sounding as though the world itself was being torn asunder. The front of the moneychanger’s shop literally erupted, bricks and wooden planks alike showering out into the street, along with a smattering of silver and golden coins. Through the opening stepped the umber hulk, clearly ready for more battle.

 

[wolff96]

MMmmm... Umber Hulk.

I've always loved that particular monster. THey're just plain fun. For the DM, anyway.

This great, I'm on vacation and STILL getting story hour updates.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 89

Hey! You’re running the wrong way, girl!

The little voice in Mole’s head drew her up short, and she stopped running, looking around the street in confusion. There were a few people around her, all moving in the same direction that she had just been, but none of them seemed particularly interested in stopping to explain to her what was going on.

There was a battle, that... thing appeared, then...

Everything after that was a jumble, confused memories that seemed quite unlikely now. A particularly disturbing image leapt into her mind, of her shooting her best friend with her crossbow. She looked down, but her bow was gone, and her sword was missing from its scabbard. Did she throw her weapons away? She couldn’t remember... but it was clear, from the noises of destruction coming down the street, that some bad business was still going on down there.

And her friends were probably right in the middle of it...

Grimly she started running back down the street, her magical boots carrying her in long strides back into the fray.

* * * * *

“Don’t look directly at it... avoid its gaze!” Dannel cried in warning, as he and Arun—reinforced now by a quartet of city guardsmen—reengaged the rampaging umber hulk. The creature turned from its dismantling of the moneychanger’s shop to face these interlopers that would interfere with its swath of destruction. The guardsmen were burly, muscular half-orcs, part of the cadre that the mayor had recently recruited to bolster the armed forces of the city in light of the recent disasters facing Cauldron. Two of the four guards heeded the elf’s warning, averting their eyes in time, but the other two looked into the creature’s multifaced orbs as its gaze swept over them. One screamed and leapt at the creature, sweeping with its halberd, while the second lowered his weapon and just stood there, a vacant look on his face.

Arun didn’t look away either. “How am I supposed to bash it, if I cannot see it!” he shouted to Dannel, leaping forward to join the guardsmen in engaging the hostile creature. Its gaze swept over him again, but once more he fought off the deluge of confusing thoughts and images that threatened to temporarily unhinge his sanity.

The first guardsman, driven into a rage by the effects of the umber hulk’s gaze, lunged at the creature, bringing down its halberd in an overhand chopping motion. The polearm managed to cut a shallow gash in the creature’s shoulder, but the guardsman had little time to revel in his achievement as the hulk swept out one arm, grabbed the guard in its claw, and pulled him bodily up to its snapping jaws. The guard had just barely enough time to scream before the mandibles sank into the sides of his head, squashing his skull like an overripe melon.

“Die, bug!” Arun cried, leaping at the hulk from the side. The umber hulk almost casually swept out its other arm, forcing Arun to dodge to the side. Even with the protection of Zenna’s mage armor, its claw dug heavily into the dwarf’s side, knocking him roughly aside.

The creature let out a terrible keening howl as another arrow from Dannel’s bow sank into its body, piercing its thick armor and digging into the meaty flesh underneath. The elf had taken up position in a wagon left empty and unattended by its owner in the street in front of the shattered shop, and was firing arrows as quickly as he could lift them to his bowstring over the heads of his allies battling the creature.

The two remaining guards—aside from the one standing confused—poked at the creature with their halberds, trying to keep their eyes averted from its dangerous gaze while striking at its body. Not surprisingly, their attacks were ineffective.

Zenna was rushing across the street toward the battle when a faint sound over the din of combat brought her attention around. It sounded like a child’s crying, and it took her a moment to determine the source: a third-story window of the inn across the street from the moneychanger’s shop. Her eyes widened as she saw that the crying was from an infant child, half-wrapped in swaddling, balanced precariously on the windowsill overlooking the street, a good twenty feet below.

Caught be indecision, she glanced back at the ruined front of the shop, where the hulk was wreaking havoc upon the defenders, then up again at the struggling child.

Then, suddenly, the child slipped from the ledge and started to fall toward certain death below.

The hulk lashed out with its claws, striking both of the guards menacing it. Both men went down, one with its face now a ruin of deep gashes, the second knocked roughly into his confused comrade, sending both to the ground in a jumble of arms and legs and blood. The hulk did not have time to follow up on its triumph, however, as another arrow slammed into it just below its jaws, releasing a jet of blood as it sank deeply into its body.

The hulk screeched and crouched low, digging once more into the ground, but before it could disappear from sight again Arun charged into it from the side.

“Not again, beastie!” he cried, and brought his hammer down in a powerful two-handed stroke that landed squarely atop the umber hulk’s head.

With a sick squash, the creature shuddered... and fell limp.

As the baby started to plummet, Zenna reached out desperately with her mind. The words of the spell flowed instinctively from her lips, and she focused on a dangling awning that fronted the display window of the bakery located in the front of the inn. The awning billowed out, filling with air as it stretched out over the cobbles of the street below. The baby impacted a moment later, landing in the middle of the awning like a stone dropped onto a down pillow. The baby’s weight quickly dragged it down, but before it could fall from the awning Zenna was there, catching the child as it rolled from the awning into her waiting grasp.

The baby squirmed in her grasp as she looked back across the street. The child was ugly, with thick limbs and a pudgy nose. Dannel caught her eye and nodded, offering a reassuring wave. The ruined front of the moneychanger’s shop had grown quiet, but she could see Arun doing something within the rubble, with no sign of the hulk. Then she caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and saw Mole rushing up the street toward them.

She skidded to a halt in front of the ruined shop, looking at each of the companions in turn.

“So, what’d I miss?”


* * * * *

Note: I will be traveling in Europe from Dec.26-Jan5; the story hour will be on hiatus during that time. I think I've come up with a suitably dramatic cliffhanger to tide you over; I should be able to get in 3-4 more posts before then.

 

[Guillaume]

Note: I will be traveling in Europe from Dec.26-Jan5; the story hour will be on hiatus during that time. I think I've come up with a suitably dramatic cliffhanger to tide you over; I should be able to get in 3-4 more posts before then.

That long ! But... But... we need our fix dammit ! You can't do this to us ! You cruel cruel writer !

Seriously, have a good trip.

 

[wolff96]

Wow. Europe.

Have a good time, LB. Where in Europe are you going, by the way?

 

[Lazybones]

Six days in Paris, three days in London. Several of my wife's coworkers were going as a group, and they invited us to go with them.

I've been to Paris before (four day stopover on a European whirlwind trip after college), but not London. If you have any suggestions for fun winter activities in either city, please post them!

* * * * *

Chapter 90


“A representative of the Lord Mayor’s office will be in touch with you, probably tomorrow, if there’s anything else,” the guard sergeant said, in a tone that was friendly but with a manner that was all business.

A few people were coming back out onto the street, curiosity overcoming their earlier terror. It was remarkable that more people hadn’t been killed, Zenna remarked, as she surveyed the swath of destruction wrought by the umber hulk. The only death had been the mercenary guard whose head had been shredded by the hulk like a melon dropped into a harvester. Several of the other guards had been seriously injured, but the quick intervention of Zenna, drawing upon the power of Azuth, had saved their lives. Fortunately no one had been inside either the warehouse or the moneychanger’s shop when the attack had come, or the death toll might have been higher.

“Thank you, sergeant,” Dannel said. The man nodded, and turned back toward the excavation that was ongoing in the rubble of the moneychanger’s shop. About two dozen town guards were present, a mixture of the mostly-human veterans and the new half-orc mercenaries recently hired by the Mayor. The latter had sullen, hard looks about them, and they watched the gathered pedestrians as if expecting any or all of them to initiate an assault.

There were also four gnomes in the investigation group, two men and two women clad in functional robes of blue trimmed with white, marked with the seal of the city. Those four were obviously arcanists of some sort; Zenna had noticed several casting spells, mostly minor divinations as they scanned the scene for clues.

Arun stood with his arms crossed before his chest, his face a thunderhead, his body covered in blood and the tattered remnants of his clothes. He’d gotten an extra cloak from somewhere, obviously sized for a human, but paid it little heed as his dark eyes penetrated the scene.

“I don’t like it,” he said.

“What... the fact that a creature like this suddenly appeared in the middle of the city, or that we just happened to be here when it happened?” Dannel asked.

“Please,” Zenna said. “It’s not like anyone knew that we would be here today. Paranoia’s all well and good, but let’s not get excessive here.”

They turned as Mole suddenly appeared beside them, materializing out of the crowd along the street. “The warehouse and moneychanger’s shop were both owned by a guy named Maavu,” she said. “Merchant guy, very wealthy, wasn’t able to find out more, yet.”

“Perhaps this guy Maavu made a few enemies,” Dannel suggested.

“Perhaps,” Zenna replied. “In any case, standing around here’s not going to yield any answers. Let’s finish our errand, get Arun’s new armor, and head back to the Morkoth. I think we could all use a break, after... this.”

* * * * *

“So, any word?” Zenna asked.

The common room of the Drunken Morkoth was starting to get busy, with patrons continuing to issue into the place through the main doors outside. Outside the windows the city was cloaked in blackness, broken occasionally by the winking flames of streetlamps. With the weather as cold as it was, few people remained out on the streets at this hour, and those that were moved quickly, intent on reaching a destination somewhere around a roaring fire.

Zenna, Mole, and Arun occupied a semi-private booth in the rear of the common room, near one of the doors that led out onto the rear courtyard. Zenna and Mole, who lived in one of the guest rooms over the long building that abutted the back of the inn, had taken semi-permanent claim over this spot, which offered a good view of the near-constant activity of the common room while lending them a modicum of privacy.

“Maavu’s involved in a number of business ventures throughout the city,” Mole reported. “He owned half the buildings along that stretch of Magma Avenue, where the attack occurred. And get this—it’s just a rumor, but I heard it from several unrelated sources: the word about the city is that he left town in a big hurry this evening, riding a horse that had clouds for hooves.”

“Now, that’s pretty unusual,” Zenna noted.

Mole nodded in agreement. “I couldn’t find any specifics about why someone would want to sic a monster like that hulk on him. But I have a few more names, and can maybe do a little more digging tomorrow.”

Arun grunted something noncommittal. The dwarf looked more at ease clad once again in steel plate; which was to say, he wasn’t all that much at ease at all. His masterwork armor, enhanced by the arcane arts of the armorer that Skie the trader had recommended to them, now radiated a faint aura that Zenna, through her magical arts, could detect.

They looked up as Dannel entered the inn, quickly detecting them and cutting nimbly through the crowd to their booth.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to make it,” Zenna said dryly.

“Wouldn’t miss it!” the elf said with a grin. “The reason for my delay was an encounter I had with a striking young woman, while I was leaving Esbar’s place.”

Zenna’s look intensified a notch until it had an edge like a dagger.

“I’m surprised that you’re here at all, then,” Arun said, as he tore another hunk off of the loaf of bread before them on the table, not bothering with the tub of butter before stuffing the bulk of it into his mouth.

Dannel shot the dwarf a look that clearly said, you’re not helping, before turning back to Zenna. “It’s not like that. She said that she wanted to arrange a business dinner with us, all of us, tomorrow evening at sundown. Said it would be profitable.” He tossed a small white card onto the table, which Mole grabbed before it had settled to a stop. The card was covered with the precise lines of quality calligraphy.

“Cusp of Sunrise/Obsidian Avenue Northwest,” Mole read. “Hey, I know that place... lots of nobles and such hang out there. Very swanky.”

“You’d think we’d have had enough to do with nobles of late,” Zenna said, not shifting her impaling stare from Dannel.

“I think there’s more to it than that,” Dannel said. “It strains credulity to believe that what happened today and this invitation are unrelated.”

“Maybe our reputation proceeds us,” Mole offered.

“Perhaps,” the elf said. “But I’ve got a strange feeling about this... and I’ve learned to trust my feelings.”

Zenna rolled her eyes obviously. “Well, at least it’s a free meal.”

 

[questionmark]

You have gotta make a trip up to Amsterdam while your in Paris. Its pretty damn fun.

 

[Padril]

Six days in Paris, three days in London. Several of my wife's coworkers were going as a group, and they invited us to go with them.

I've been to Paris before (four day stopover on a European whirlwind trip after college), but not London. If you have any suggestions for fun winter activities in either city, please post them!

Sounds like a fun trip. For your London leg of the trip I know there is a bit of a thing in the Millenium Dome this Christmas, though I think its aimed at kids mostly. There is always a trip on the London Eye if you like heights It depends on what you like.

Padril

 

[Stebie9173]

There's also an exhibition at the Science Museum for some film or other.

Oh. What was it again. Lord of the Rings?

Nah, nobody would be interested in that. Forget I mentioned it.

If you go on the 3rd you might just see me!

 

[Lazybones]

Thanks for the suggestions, guys. I have been to Amsterdam, actually... very interesting city, among my favorites in Europe. Interesting juxtapositions abound with the Red doors and centuries-old churches just a few blocks apart. What struck me about the city was how drugs and sex were openly presented in a manner that wasn't seedy or unsafe, as it would be in any big American city's vice district.

Heh, actually I will be in London on the 3rd, but I can just see myself trying to convince my wife to go to a Lord of the Rings exhibition on our only full day in London (Fri and Sun we're traveling on the train for a good part of the day)rather than the British Museum... Just getting her to go to the movie on opening night used up a fair amount of bonus points.

Maybe I can promote the "science" angle and pretend surprise when we see the LotR exhibit...

* * * * *

Chapter 91

The Cusp of Sunrise was a considerable, cross-shaped building covered in ivy, with a great central tower that rose as high as the city walls. As they drew nearer, they could see an engraved sign upon the ironbound door that said, “C.o.S.—Members Only.” The faint sounds of laughter and music could be heard from within over the background noise of the city.

“Looks like this is the place!” Mole exclaimed, hopping up the stairs to knock firmly on the heavy oaken door.

The door opened promptly, revealing an older gentleman clad in simple but exceptionally cut garments, with graying hair that had been trained until not a single strand seemed out of place. He looked down at the four adventurers with a featureless expression that seemed clearly well-schooled. “Yes?”

“We’re here for a meeting with Celeste,” Dannel said.

The man raised an eyebrow, but didn’t speak nor move from his position until the elf proffered the card that the woman had given him. He scanned it and nodded to himself. “Ah, the umber hulk people,” he told them. “I am Renjin. Come inside, if you please.”

He proceeded them into a marble foyer that would have served in itself as a comfortable home for a family of four. An elaborately woven carpet that was probably worth more than most of the homes in the city was sprawled across the center of the foyer, beneath a many-armed chandelier that shone with what was probably genuine gold, rather than just gilding. Three tall arches offered access to different wings of the structure, but Renjin again held up their progress as he took up a blocking position beside a large mahogany desk that had a look of great age about it—as well as a buffed shine that was so perfect that it could likely serve as a mirror in a pinch.

“Was there something else?” Dannel asked.

The butler seemed nonplussed. “The members of the Cusp of Sunrise are accustomed to a certain... decorum... in their guests, sir.”

Zenna took a good look at herself and her companions, and understood immediately what the man was getting at. They’d all had enough time to have most of their clothes repaired after their multiple delvings into places that were Terribly Dangerous. But standing there, clad in armor and with weapons and fat pouches dangling off of them every which way, they looked like nothing else than what they were. Adventurers. The Stormblades could pull off making that look good, but for the four of them...

Arun opened his mouth to say something that would no doubt be devastating to their cause, but Dannel stepped in smoothly. “I am sure that we will conduct ourselves with the utmost in restraint, Renjin, and do nothing to upset the sensibilities of your guests.” The elf smiled but shot a not-quite-covert look at Arun, and reluctantly—so it seemed to Zenna—subsided.

Renjin wasn’t quite satisfied, though. “There are no stags to be hunted in the Great Library, sir,” he added, with a look at Dannel’s bow.

The elf nodded, and with a sudden snap of his wrist launched the bow across the foyer, to settle perfectly onto a rack sparsely populated with a few outdoor coats and cloaks. “Try to make sure it doesn’t wander off,” he couldn’t resist adding as a jab, appreciating the offended look that flashed briefly across the butler’s smooth façade.

Zenna glanced back at Mole, and started slightly in surprise. Somehow the gnome’s weapons, even her crossbow, had vanished, and she now wore a pair of earings set with chips of blue lapis, complemented by a silver necklace that bore a trio of wedge-cut moonstones. And while she wasn’t one hundred percent sure, Zenna thought that the blouse her diminutive friend was wearing—a flowing V-cut of soft blue silk—wasn’t the same one she’d seen on her when they’d left the Morkoth... and how had she managed that!

Mole met her incredulous look and merely smiled, offering a clearly disingenuous shrug.

Well fine then, Zenna thought to herself, after all, she could play games as well...

Zenna briefly concentrated upon her magical hat. When she turned around, her appearance had subtly but noticeably changed. Her red hair was no longer tucked haphazardly under the simple cap that was the natural form of the hat of disguise, but now neatly caught up in an ivory comb studded with bands of shining platinum. Her features were highlighted with just enough makeup to avoid drawing attention to it—that was a lesson that her stepmother had given her—while her often-repaired tunic was now silk, like Mole’s, with the repaired rents now appearing as decorative designs in thread-of-gold. Even her component pouches looked stylish, trimmed with ermine and the occasional gold buckle.

Dannel slipped a glance at her, then forgot himself and stared. Even Renjin was clearly taken aback for a moment, but he recovered quickly and turned to Arun. Even before the man could open his mouth, the dwarf was already shaking his head.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said. “This hammer and my armor are sacred articles of my faith, signs of my devotion to the All-Father. I’d sooner mash your head down into your gut than hand either over to the likes of you.” As he finished, he tightened his grip on the haft of his hammer, as if contemplating whether to go ahead with his own suggestion.

Renjin huffed slightly, as if dealing with uncouth dwarves was just a part of his many burdens, then turned and gestured toward the far archway. “Miss Celeste will join you in the Great Library,” he said dismissively.

As they moved past, Zenna whispered to Arun, “Quite diplomatic of you.”

Arun harrumphed.

The Great Library was impressive, Zenna had to admit, as they stepped from the foyer into the huge, vaulted chamber. The room appeared to comprise the entirety of the tower that they’d seen from outside, with walls twelve feet high topped by a dome that rose to a vaulted height easily forty feet above their heads. Long, narrow windows punctuated the dome near its base, filling the room with slivers of light that were augmented by at least a dozen bright brass lamps hanging on chains about the perimeter of the room. A long bar with dozens if not hundreds of bottles in organized rows on shelves behind it ran inconspicuously along the edge of the room to their left, and tall bookshelves accompanied by metal-frame ladders mounted to the wall on rollers ran around the entire circumference of the chamber. The spacious interior of the room was filled with comfortable-looking padded chairs, small tables where a number of well-dressed patrons were gaming with dice, and even a harpsichord sitting alone to one side. The room was filled to about half its apparent occupancy with a representative sample of Faerûn’s races and genders, all clad in expensive raiment that made Zenna feel her even illusion-enhanced appearance to be shabby and cheap by contrast. A few glanced up at them as they entered with mild curiosity, but most remained focused on their conversations or games, not deigning to notice them.

“Didn’t think a little town like this one could support so much foppery,” Arun growled. At least he had the presence of mind to keep his voice low, she thought, as the dwarf sauntered over to the nearest chair that was at least a dozen paces from any of the gathered nobles, and sat down, the chair creaking alarmingly as it adjusted to his considerable armor-enhanced weight. The look on his face made it clear that he welcomed no idle chatter.

Dannel moved gracefully to another chair, and drew out his flute, assembling it in a practiced motion. He didn’t play to draw attention, but rather began testing out a few complex melodies quietly. Zenna recognized that by attempting not to draw focus to himself, he was already doing so, and in fact a few nobles moved closer, to better hear what he was doing.

She sighed, feeling torn and undecided, feelings that she had never been comfortable with. She and Dannel had not spoken of what had happened at Esbar’s place that morning, before the battle with the umber hulk attack. Clearly the elf was comfortable with what had happened between them, his kissing her, just a lark, perhaps. The elf was clearly comfortable around women, she’d seen that already. No doubt she was just the last in a long line that he’d set his eyes upon for a casual dalliance...

Zenna felt herself coloring and a growing surge of anger that threatened to strip away her reason. Blast the man! Blast all men! She spun and moved away, nearly trampling a surprised young noble who swallowed his complaint when he saw the look on her face. Zenna instead turned her attention to the bookshelves, walking around the perimeter of the room examining the titles—or at least pretending to, until she was able to master her unpredictable and raging emotions.

Mole, of course, seemed blissfully unaware of the various subtexts going on around her, and headed directly for the gaming tables.

It looked like all three tables were playing the same game, a dice-tossing affair that used small metal dice of a variety of shapes. The only difference seemed to be the stakes; gold coins at one table, platinum at the next, and what looked like small platinum bars at the last. Her gaze lingered at that one; she knew enough about precious metals to estimate that the small piles of bars beside the players at that table had to be worth over a thousand gold pieces!

She gravitated to the “gold” table, where four players were playing. They included a young human male, an elderly elven woman, a balding human male with one eye covered with a gem-studded patch, and a halfling man clad in a fur cloak that looked to contain the skins of a good half-dozen assorted creatures. The halfling and the young human nodded at her in greeting as she approached. There was a long padded bench a short distance back from the table for spectators, so she hopped up there to get a better look.

It didn’t take her long to figure out what was going on; apparently chatter was a big part of the game and the nobles seemed welcoming enough of a potential new player. The game was called “gemsnatcher,” and the young man—Evran Durst, his name was—explained the rules in between his tosses. It seemed that the game started with everyone rolling the pyramidal dice, the one with four sides. Once a player rolled a “one” on that die, they graduated up to the next larger size for the next toss. This continued until someone made it up to the largest die, a fat, nearly spherical bronze slug nearly the size of a sling bullet. When that die, which Mole guessed had about 20 facets, was cast, then everyone who didn’t roll a “one” in that toss had to pay the caster of the bronze die that number of coins showing on its face. “And then you buy the table a round from your winnings!” Durst editorialized with a sweeping gesture—apparently he’d already consumed a number of such victory toasts.

“The purchase of libations is strictly optional,” the elvish woman, a good-natured matron named Talia Emberleaf, added.

The game concluded with Talia rolling a “four” on the big die. Evran, who’d gotten up to the twelve-sided die quickly before rolling ten straight throws without a one, cursed but smiled as he handed over the coins desultorily. Mole realized that none of these four really worried about the money; just the jewelry that each wore was probably worth at least a hundred times the total stakes at the table.

The older man stood. “I have an errand in the city... you may have my table, madam,” he said, with a nod to Mole. The halfling also rose. “Alas, I must also depart,” he said, nodding to each of them before sliding his coins into his purse and exiting.

“Well blast it, it’s bad luck to play gemsnatcher with less than four,” Evran said. “Perhaps one of your friends would join us, Mole?”

Mole glanced over at where Dannel was playing, Arun was scowling, and Zenna was trying to ignore the lot of them, her nose in a book. “Um...”

“If you need a fourth, I would be willing to play a round,” someone said. Mole jumped slightly—she hadn’t heard the newcomer come up from behind her. She felt a nasty twinge as she recognized the voice, which was confirmed a moment later as he walked around her, sliding easily into the vacant seat.

“Vanderboren,” Evran said, his tone indicating that he bore the young rake little affection. If Todd Vanderboren cared, he didn’t show it, laying out a small pile of golden coins in front of him with a sweep of his hand. Mole glanced around the room, to see if any of the other Stormblades had entered, but apparently Vanderboren was alone. His face twisted into an expression just short of a leer—his face really did resemble a rat’s, or maybe a weasel’s, Mole thought—before his hand shot out and swept up the dice left by one of the departing players.

“Feeling lucky today?” he asked, even his voice sounding like a sneer, his eyes on Mole.