Time Well Spent

[Lucius Foxhound]

Lucius scans his mind for the spells he has left, looks around at the mages, and sighs.

"Alright, I'll come quietly. I ask just one thing: someone bring those bracers for me. Murder or not, I won that duel. It took a lot to beat my old master, and once I'm cleared of these charges, I want something to show for it."

Wisp! Are you alright? Listen, make for our campsight and meet up with that Harper woman. She might be able to help me.

You know, Wisp... That illusion was quite a work of art. It takes extreme spellcraft to be able to program an illusion directly over a standing person. Hmmm... I know of only one person capable of such a trick... I wonder...

 

[Tom Cashel]

Act IV: The Cell

Deign on the passing world to turn thine eyes,
And pause awhile from letters to be wise;
There mark what ills the scholar's life assail,
Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the jail.
See nations slowly rise, and meanly just,
To buried merit raise the tardy bust.
–Samuel Johnson

The manacles clasped firmly upon your wrists, you are led away from the duelling arena. The eyes of all gathered are upon you.

On the opposite side of the crater, you are taken into a small cave. At the rear of the tiny catacomb a secret stone panel is opened, revealing dry uneven steps winding down into what was once a volcano, but now lies dead...or at least sleeping.

"Don’t worry," says one of the wizards, "If you are found to be innocent the wager placed by Haelstrom will be yours. For your sake, I hope you are innocent. Our hosts this year are not the most forgiving of individuals..." You notice now that all four mages wear the scarlet eyes and stars of Mystra upon their robes.

You are placed inside a 10'x10' stone cell, and the gate is locked with an echoing metallic click. The wizards leave you alone in the dark.

Wisp's voice speaks within your mind. Tall magic-one? We have a problem.

A moment passes.

I am back at the meeting place...but that elfin-one is dead. There are many magic-ones and war-makers about. They are coming toward me...

Abruptly a gravelly voice speaks in the darkness, only a few feet away: "Who are you mind-speaking with, inmate? Stop it!"

Wisp goes silent.

 

[Lucius Foxhound]

"Sorry, just trying to pass the time. Who are you ... and say, aren't I entitled to some bread and water and whatnot?"

 

[Tom Cashel]

As your eyes adjust the dark, you see a face made of stone emerge from the hewn granite wall as though floating to the surface of a watery pool.

"I am the Cell," it says in a scratchy voice like stones clicking and scraping together. "The masters will bring you food, inmate. Just be glad they've left you with all your belongings!

"I am quite civilized for a Cell, you will note. Just remember: I don't take well to attempted escapes, and so far I have a perfect record of preventing them."

 

[Lucius Foxhound]

"My, my, MY!" Lucius exclaims. "I've never seen a cell quite like you before. I wonder who created you... hmmm...

"In any case, you seem quite escape-proof. Since we both have some time to kill (not a good expression, actually) what shall we talk about?"

An idea begins to form in Lucius's head.

"Oh, how rude of me. I am Lucius Foxhound, formerly of Foxhound's Fantastic Flabergasting Fun-O-Rama show.

"Tell me, what does a cell do for entertainment?"

 

[Tom Cashel]

The stony face seems taken aback. "I--uh--entertainment?"

 

[Lucius Foxhound]

"Yes, certainly. Obviously, you're very much into your work ... that is, providing an escape-proof cell.

"But how does an intelligent cell like youself get some entertainment? What do you do when there's no one to imprison?

"While I'm not much of a Wizard, I can tell you that I'm quite an expert at enterainment. Perhaps I can help you in this matter ... to pass the time, you understand."

 

[Tom Cashel]

The stone of the wall stretches outward in the rough form of a hand, and strokes the stone chin contemplatively.

"Well, all right...I'd like to see The Entertainment. As long as there is no mention of escape."

 

[Lucius Foxhound]

"All right then. I just need a moment to compose myself."

Lucius stands up and spends a few moments staring at the ground. Then he looks up and begins.

"I am not a number, I am a freeman from Cormyr," Lucius begins. He continues the exciting one-man version of the dramatic The Prisoner, an old, but still worthy tale of a Harper spy trapped on an island off the Sword Coast (or so he thinks). The play's exciting conclusion reveals that it is not the Zhents behind his capture, but it is the Harpers themselves who hold him Prisoner! And it is not an island, but merely an illusion inside his own mind as he's actually just tied to a table in Khelban Blackstaff's laboratory.

 

[Tom Cashel]

The cell remains stonefaced. "I don't get it. Was there a prison or wasn't there?"

(You know that the Mystran insignias worn by the wizards mark them as Dweomerkeepers, a sect ordained by the clergy of Mystra to practice both arcane and divine magic. Their largest stronghold is located in Waterdeep and is allied with the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors; they are responsible for security at the annual Grand Magefairs--like this one--held all over the Realms.)