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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 2245138" data-attributes="member: 143">We'll get back to the non-stop danger in a moment, but first, our heroes go... shopping!* * * * *Chapter 390The headquarters of the Guild of Mages in Waterdeep was situated in a tower, but that description was wholly inadequate to describe the majesty and sheer impact of the place.  Leaving aside the architectural impressiveness of the great vaulted Guildhall, with its vaulted arches and doomed ceilings towering some fifty feet above the marble tiles below, the place was frequented by some of the foremost masters of the arcane in all of Faerûn, who added their own considerable mystique to the drama of the location.  Various subtle magical effects were visible to the common visitor, but to one capable of sensing the subtle currents in the Weave wrought by the practice of magic, the entire structure seemed a blazing font of all forms of magical energy.Most visitors never saw more than the main hall, to the private quarters used by visiting Guild mages situated in the higher reaches of the tower, the most skilled gifted with views that spanned the entire breadth of the sprawling metropolis.  Or the workshops layered with protective wards, designed both to keep prying eyes out, as well as to keep certain things in.  Even those wards were minor castings compared to those surrounding the ancient vaults in sublevels as far beneath the guildhall as the topmost tower chambers were above it.  Those deep chambers were rarely even mentioned in casual conversations where someone might hear, and they spawned all sorts of rumors in nearby taprooms, and worried glances followed by a hasty sign to any of a hundred deities as passersby hurried on their business past the mighty home of the Guild. The Guildhall was typically busy on this chill day of early winter.  A cold gust and a colder rain off the Sea of Swords presaged another nasty storm in the days ahead, but inside the hall it was warm and comfortable.  Conversations in half a dozen languages filled the cavernous interior of the space, as Guild mages talked and did business with merchants, apprentices, and petitioners of two score nations and regions scattered across Faerûn.  Maybe sixty or seventy people were here altogether, men and women representing all of the major races of the Realms, and every time a handful left by either of the ornate gilded double doors at the ends of the hall, another handful would trickle in to maintain continuity of the ongoing buzz of activity.Hardly anyone paid heed to the pair of gnomes who entered the Guildhall shortly after the service of the midmorning tea.  They had the look of veteran travelers, and the fact that they were not soaked with rain suggested that they had arrived via magical means, rather than by more conventional modes of travel.  The younger of the pair, a curious-eyed girl, was clearly impressed by the diverse wonders of the setting, but the other, a man well into middle age, awkwardly bearing a standard or weapon wrapped in cloth, seemed to know exactly where he was going, and he directed them across the hall toward a marble counter at the far end. The guards, both the obvious ones and those more dire, noted the two and continued their vigilance.  Unlike at most guildhalls throughout the city, weapons were not expressly forbidden here, for the simple reason that the members of the Guild had plentiful means at their disposal for dealing with such conventional threats as blades and arrows. The mage attending at the counter, a stout human clad in long purple robes, nodded in greeting as he caught sight of the elder gnome.  “Master Calloran,” he said, directing the gnome to his left, where the counter was situated about a foot lower, suited to one of his stature.  “A pleasure to see you this day.  Does this visit perhaps presage your agreement—finally—to accept a position within the Guild?” “If and when I make that commitment, Kerates, you’ll be the first to know, on my word,” Cal replied.  “No, I am afraid my business this day is more… prosaic.” “Well, as always, the Guild is happy to entertain your business,” Kerates said with a smile.  “You always do find such interesting artifacts in your travels.”Cal unslung his magical backpack, and drew out his borrowed bag of holding beside it, placing the carefully wrapped form of Mindbite beside it.  The weapon seemed to quiver in his hand as he placed it down, and the gnome felt a brief pang of uncertainty that he quickly quashed.  Kerates, who sensed at least part of the exchange, raised an eyebrow in interest. Five minutes later, that subtle expression had been replaced by a look of open amazement.  The mage hurriedly called a clerk from the storeroom behind him, whose eyes widened in turn as he caught sight of the materials that were laid out in a crowded but orderly display across the entire spread of the counter, in some cases stacked several feet high.  They included an array of weapons, suits of armor, gloves, bracers, glittering jewels, a whole slew of rings and amulets on a leather throng, and other assorted marvels.  “We’ve had a busy tenday,” Cal explained, as he and Mole lifted a heavy breastplate—mithral—onto a pile of similar items.  Mole dug around in the bag of holding to see if they’d missed anything, half her body disappearing into it for a few moments before she reappeared.  A number of other mages had gathered around, curious as the pile of gear had grown. “I do not appreciate being mixed in with all of this… debris,” came a muffled voice from atop the pile.  Kerates looked in surprise at Mindbite, still secure in its linen wrappings, and then at Cal, who merely shrugged. “We’re going to need a few things,” the gnome said casually.  “I brought a list.  A few are divine in orientation, but I assume that the Guild script is still valid on the Temple Mount.”Kerates grabbed the clerk, by the arm, drawing his attention away from the heaped items.  “Um… you’d better get Master Umbright down here, and tell him he’d better clear his afternoon calendar.”  It was rather late in the day, with the overcast sky already deepening to twilight, when Cal and Mole reappeared in the back part of their room at the Lucky Monkey, where a small open space had been roped off with a sign requesting that it not be disturbed. “That was fun,” Mole said, with a grin. “Let’s find Jenya, she’ll know what do with these supplies,” Cal replied, lifting Lok’s bag of holding onto the bed with a grunt. “The look on all those mages’ faces… and the expression on that cleric when you gave her a Guild script for one hundred thousand gold pieces…”Cal smiled.  “Yes, I have to admit… I’ve never in my life carried around this much wealth.  Good thing we weren’t jumped, eh?”“Pffbbbbt.  Like any rogues were going to go after us…”“It’s good to see you smile again, Mole.”Mole flushed slightly.  “Well… I’m not saying I’m through all that stuff I talked about this morning.  But I do feel better… and there’s no way I’m going to let the guys jump back into trouble without me.  Maybe I’ll just be a little more careful, that’s all.”“Sounds like a plan.  Now come on, we’ve had a long day, let’s find the others and get something hot to eat.”“Ugh, more of Dana’s gray stuff, I bet,” Mole said, with a face. “Now, now, niece, is that the trust you show in your dear uncle?  We spent the day in Waterdeep, after all.  Rest assured, some choice viands made their way into my magical backpack; after all, heroes require quality fare to prepare themselves for struggles of life and death.”“Just don’t let Hodge know,” Mole said with a giggle.  “He’ll eat the backpack and all!”They opened the door and almost ran into Dana, who was coming down the hallway in a hurry. “Dana!” “Good, you’re back.  We have a name and location for the Cagewright redoubt: a place called Shatterhorn.”</blockquote>

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